Reality
by spongeson
Summary: Murdoc is having a hard time finding the line between reality and the hallucinations that plague him. And to make matters worse, he's starting to feel things again - slice-of-life AU in which Murdoc has a heart - phase-1/2doc - COMPLETE
1. Intro

**Intro**

**edited on September 3, 2016**

**Disclaimer: **I don't claim to own any of the characters involved in the story. Obviously. It's 2015. Bruh. All characters belong to Damon and Jamie B)

oOo

It's hard to tell the difference between what's real and what's not.

There are days when Murdoc will be lounging in his Winnebago and his eyes will flicker briefly and focus on a mop of blue hair settled in the far corner of his room. Then he'll blink, and the image will be gone.

And there are days, when he's drunkenly roaming the halls of Kong, that he'll come across a tall figure standing in the far outreaches of his vision, still as a statue and even more daunting. It'll stare vacantly past him, and when Murdoc finally walks by and crosses its path he'll _swear_ that he can feel fingers brushing against his arm. He'll stiffen, and turn his head, but the figure will be gone.

Even now, curled on his bed with a bottle of rum clutched to his chest, Murdoc swears that he can hear humming in his ear. It's a soft, dismal tune.

However, he knows that the humming isn't real, because there isn't a reason for it to be. The humming person, whose voice continually haunts him, is in a different room doing who-knows-what with some tart he picked up that evening.

Murdoc frowns briefly and drums his fingers against the neck of his rum bottle in irritation. He groans, as if asking himself why _he_ doesn't have some whore on his arm- it isn't like he can't afford it, after all.

A faint moaning in the distance reaches his ears and no amount of denial on his part will change the fact that it's real. The echo serves as enough evidence. He clenches a fist and takes a deep swig off his rum bottle before sending it flying across the room. The resulting shatter does nothing to dissuade his temper.

He heaves a heavy sigh, his voice a raspy growl. Resolute, he props himself up on his elbows just as another, more _insistent_ moan makes its way into his hearing range.

Murdoc curses nastily, making a quick promise to kill the dullard when the moment strikes. He's intent on keeping that promise.

But as the moans and sighs continue to echo throughout the carpark, he begins to perspire.

Some days, it's hard to tell the difference between what's real and what's not.

Today isn't one of those days.

oOo


	2. PART I - Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

oOo

Tattered clothes and random doodads soar through the air at a blinding rate. Nameless objects shatter against the walls, littering the already messy floor with glass shards and questionable, sticky substances. Murdoc, wearing nothing on his feet, just barely manages to avoid stepping on broken glass as he gets to his hands and knees, his mismatched eyes wide and equally crazed.

"..Where t-the hell did I l-leave those blasted things?" he snarls, teeth chattering together noisily as he crawls and sifts through mounds of garbage piled up on his bedroom floor. "Motherfu—ghhh! Where the fuck are my boots?!"

His search, which originally started off slow and steady, has since turned desperate. His hands merely grab and throw, tossing clothing and garbage and dead things over his shoulders and onto the growing, sagging pile on his kitchen table. Still, no sign of them.

"S-sweet Satan, you've g-gotta me sh-shittin' me!"

With an angry huff, he stomps over to his bed and gives one of the many quivering piles sitting at the end of it a sharp kick. Crusty magazines and old food wrappers fall despondently to the floor, revealing a well-used upside-down rubber cross and a pair of Cuban heeled boots.

Murdoc stares at his shoes blankly, not batting an eye even as a fat, brown spider crawls out from under them and into his tangled, messy sheets. He grabs them stiffly and stuffs his feet inside, keeping silent.

Without acknowledging the current state of his living space, he stalks over to the exit and steps into the carpark. He notices something shift in the corner of his eye (blue, the color that the sky was supposed to be) and when he turns his head to look at it he sees that nothing's there. He coughs hoarsely, pushes past the creaking doors and trudges into the looming building. All he can hear, save for the constant breathing down his neck, is the the sharp clack-ing of his heels reverberating throughout the empty halls.

He continues on his trek, following his desperate need for warmth, when he comes across Stuart "2D" Pot standing off to the side, staring into space. His expression is vacant, as if he were lost in some sort of trance. His glassy eyes look far away.

Murdoc pauses in his steps, face screwing into an angry scowl.

"Hey."

No response. He blinks in confusion, and tries again.

"_Dents_."

Nothing.

Murdoc raises a brow in question when 2D, once again, fails to reply. After a few more seconds of waiting, he opts to throw something at the other man to catch his attention.

Nodding decisively, he plants his hands on his hips and looks around the room, and spots a (presumably empty) soda can sitting in a pile of trash only a few feet away. Its exterior is rusted, fading, and beautiful. Without a second thought he picks it up, dusts it off, and chucks it at the singer with all his might. It whistles and sloshes heavily in the air, and after its brief moment of flight, it hits 2D's head with a wet thump.

2D, now pulled out of his daze, glances over at Murdoc in surprise. He doesn't seem to notice the soda in his hair. His posture shifts slightly, as if he's planning on walking towards Murdoc, but when he goes to move he trips over the soda can, falls, and smacks his head off the cement.

"_OW, SHIT!_"

**Fuck.**

Murdoc feels his lips twitch and pull into a frown. He opens his mouth to speak, snorts, and quickly covers his mouth with his hands. He tries again, fails again, and grinds his teeth together to stave off his upcoming giggle fit.

_**Fuck.**_

"Ohh, oh sh-shit!" he laughs, slapping his hand against thigh a few times to emphasize just how funny he thinks the whole thing is. "Jesus Christ, Dents, didn't your mum teach you how to walk when y'flew out of her?!"

2D sits up slowly from his spot on the floor, rubbing the back of his head with a pained expression. He doesn't say anything as he wipes something wet, something that closely resembles blood, on the side of his jeans.

After a few more seconds, Murdoc finally calms down enough to cease his laughter. He straightens his back wordlessly and watches on in amusement as 2D attempts to find a way to get his awkwardly-tall body off the ground and into a standing position.

"You should see the look on your face, dullard." Murdoc sneers, not taking note of the crimson staining the other's hand and neck. "It really suits you."

2D sniffs, dazed and confused.

"Hey, Muds." he greets softly, irritation lacing his tone. His face, however, still manages to brighten when his eyes meet Murdoc's. "What're you doin' in here? Thought you'd be goin' at it with some bird this time a'day, yeah?"

He pauses, considering.

Murdoc hisses at the other's observation.

"Shut your mouth, that's none of your damn business!" he snaps, teeth bared in a predatory snarl. "In case you haven't noticed, Dents, it's well on it's way to arctic out there."

2D shrugs, indifferent.

"Jeez. Sorry, Muds, I ain't tryin to get you riled up or anything."

Murdoc waves off the apology and offers the singer a rude hand gesture, continuing on his way without another word. After a few moments of stiff silence, he hears the sound of faint footsteps trailing him from behind.

oOo

It doesn't take long for the sound of mixed laughter to meet Murdoc's ears. It starts off soft and distant, as most noises do, rising both in volume and intensity as he gets closer to the source. And the source isn't too far off to begin with.

The living room door, adorned in bloody scratch marks and old bullet holes, cracks precariously open only a few feet from where he stands. Stepping forward, he pushes it open gingerly and enters the room just beyond it. 2D steps in beside him wordlessly, his hands tucked neatly into his pockets.

The laughter continues, uninterrupted.

Russell and Noodle, the latter's form barely visible over the back of the aging couch, are currently engaged in a heated one-on-one video-game tournament. Noodle, seeming to have gained the upper-hand, giggles excitedly and hops up onto the arm of the couch, game controller clutched tightly in her hands as she performs a surprisingly complex combo-move. Russell sighs in defeat and drops his controller to the floor when his character blows up on screen.

"I don't know why I even bother playin' with you, doll." he grouses, running a large hand down his face. "Y'always end up beatin' the snot out of me. Jus' can't seem t'catch a break."

Noodle laughs lightly, nodding. "Hai! That is why it's fun, yes?"

Russell shakes his head.

2D shifts his weight when Noodle lets out another delicate laugh. Murdoc glances over at him, watching curiously as a bright grin stretches over other's face. The younger man says nothing as he bounds off in the direction of his band mates.

"Hey, guys!"

Noodle glances up in surprise and flashes 2D a smile. Russell groans in exasperation, still caught up in his loss. Murdoc's curious expression melts away at their familiar exchange, and decides to make his presence known. He takes a heavy step forward, the sound of his shoe meeting tile catching the drummer's attention.

"Oh, hey, Muds." Russell calls over his shoulder, raising a hand up in a gentle wave. His tone isn't exactly friendly, but it's warm enough to invite conversation. Murdoc grumbles a reply and makes his way over to the group, slumping down in his recliner.

"Hello, Murdoc-san." Noodle chirps. "How are you?"

Murdoc doesn't answer.

The guitarist shrugs, indifferent, and turns her attention back to Russell.

"Russell-sama, play?"

The drummer's mouth quivers in amusement, snorting at the young girl's hopeful expression.

"Ohoh no, baby-girl. I ain't playin' another game right now." he laughs, surrendering his controller to the small girl. "I gotta get to doing other things before the night ends."

Murdoc twitches at this admission and chuckles, a shit eating grin etched to his face.

"Like what?" he taunts, raising an invisible brow. "Dressing up like a soddin' debutant? News flash, Russ: they don't make ball-gowns for whales. Sorry, mate, yer gonna have t'get your fix somewhere else."

Russell's entire body tenses and tightens at the insult and he snarls, hands clenching into threatening fists. Murdoc flinches and clamps his mouth shut, suddenly finding the whole thing a lot less funny.

"No." the drummer grinds out between clenched teeth, visibly forcing himself to relax his shoulders. "But even if I were, it wouldn't be any of your God damned business."

With that, he stalks off in the other direction and grumbles something profane under his breath. Murdoc smirks, feeling somewhat accomplished at having successfully pushed Russell's buttons with little to no repercussions.

That's until he notices the look on 2D's face.

"Tha' wasn' very funny, Murdoc." the singer chides, tone disapproving. The bassist feels like he should snap in reply but the only feeling he can muster is embarrassment.

He doesn't say anything else.

oOo


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

note: this takes place after last chapter! it's the next day 8) IS IT A DREAM? IS IT REAL LIFE? is it BOTH?

oOo

The trip back to his Winnebago proves to be a difficult one as he feigns nonchalance and passiveness. He forces a smile, forces apathy as he ignores the frown 2D sends his way.

A step up, a step forward and a step down. He reaches blindly to the side, through his cupboards and cabinets, pulling bottle after bottle to his chest in preparation for his binge.

He tips his head back and drinks, swallowing greedily in an attempt to wash away the morose and repentant feeling settling in his chest.

Murdoc Niccals doesn't feel guilt.

His heart, blackened and hardened over years of neglect and abuse, is too twisted and mangled to understand such a feeling.

Or so he tells himself. He keeps telling himself that his head is wrong, that his regretful heart is lying to him.

He trips over himself, falling onto his bed in a mass of bottles and limbs and he groans in frustration. The weight of his ribs pressing against smooth glass is painful, almost too much for even him to handle and he removes himself from the pile.

_Murdoc Niccals_ _doesn't feel guilt._

However, what _does_ feel, right now, is nothing short of unpleasant. He rolls onto his back, props himself on his elbows and allows himself to fall apart. One hand gripping the neck of a bottle and the other gripping at his hair, all he can see is 2D's disapproving frown.

He takes a deep swig off of his bottle of rum, the burning sensation of alcohol stinging his nose and throat and he wipes his mouth sloppily.

The night is still young. There's still time for him to drown and wallow in self-pity.

And time, strange as it is, shifts at strange and sluggish pace. It morphs his perception into something almost malleable, tricking him, making him feel as if he's still fully there. His vision is blurry and unfocused, clouded with a drunken veil and he can almost_ feel_ his eyes crossing. They drift lazily, moving across the room and everything in his line of vision has a double.

Even the blue-haired figure standing in his doorway. However, when he blinks, it doesn't disappear.

"Muds?" the figure asks, voice laced with concern and hesitance and they remain stationed just outside of Murdoc's room. His grip on his hair loosens and he feels his shoulders relax at the gentle tone, coaxing him into a more placid state. He blinks blearily at them, trying his best to clear his vision and the figure comes into focus a bit more.

"Mm?" he asks, rubbing his face and he takes note of the stubble beginning to grow there. "Who're...what're ya doin in here?"

The figure looms closer now, entering the room completely. The closeness of the figure fixes Murdoc's lack of focus, and he's suddenly able to recognize his visitor.

"Hey, Muds." 2D smiles nervously, seeming to take note of just how smashed Murdoc is. He pauses, grin faltering. "...It's 2D."

And now Murdoc is _smiling._

"Ahhh, yes, yes!" he croons, face brightening. "My li'l _song bird_."

2D's smile flickers a bit, eyebrows quirking at the other's possessive tone. He purses his lips, shoulders shrugging in acceptance.

"..Sure, Muds. Whatever you say."

Murdoc snorts, shaking his head and he adjusts his position on the bed in order to make room for the singer. Patting the spot next to him, he gazes up at the other expectantly and he notices 2D's critical glance. He narrows his eyes and taps his fingers irritably, his patience wearing thin.

"Sit." the bassist commands sharply, watching as the singer quickly obeys. "You did'n answer my _question_."

His words slur together drunkenly and he leans his face closer to 2D's. The singer's black eyes cross at the close proximity and he leans back a bit, breathing deeply through his nose.

"What question?"

Murdoc growls in frustration and he runs his shaky fingers through his hair

"What're ya doin' in here?" he asks again, eyes narrowing dangerously and he _almost_ wants to lean in closer when he sees the singer lean away. "I din' ask ya t'come in. Don' tell me you're already lookin' for my company after what happened earlier."

2D grins.

"Well... we're best mates, yeah? All's good, in my book."

Murdoc's hostile expression falters and he's left blank faced.

"O'course."

It's silent for a moment before 2D lets out a heavy sigh. Murdoc doesn't notice his surroundings beginning to fade or his hazy tunnel vision beginning to take over.

"An'..." the singer continues breathily, his voice a mere whisper, "I wanted to...see you."

Murdoc's heart nearly skips a beat and he chokes on his spit, coughing and spluttering in shock. 2D notices this and looks at him worriedly, attempting to assist him. Murdoc waves him off, gasping for air.

"Y-yeah?" he asks, and he's mortified at his inability to form a coherent sentence.

He tries again.

"Why?"

Blackness then consumes his vision. He blinks once, and suddenly his vision is clear, _almost startlingly so_ and he almost has to pinch himself to see if he's still awake. A pale hand comes to rest on his face, a thumb caresses his stubbled jaw and he swallows _hard_. Obsidian eyes stare into his own, shining brightly and there's just the faintest hint of mischief.

He doesn't know who is leaning towards who, but the next thing he knows is that there's a pair of lips pressing against his own and his heart is beating _fast._ They break apart for a moment, both panting heavily.

He knows that he should be angry but when he looks into 2D's eyes he can't find it in himself to feel that way. Without giving it a second thought he surges at the singer, flings his arms around his neck and shoulders and he kisses him fervently. Teeth bite at his lips to the point of bleeding and he moans in the back of his throat, fisting 2D's shirt tightly in his hands.

Lips latch onto his neck, pepper his face, press against his closed eyes and when he opens them 2D's gone.

Murdoc is still panting and although the sensation on his lips is gone he still feels the warmth in his groin.

Confusion soon turns into realization, and his eyes widen in shock.

"_FUCK_." he yelps, slamming his fist against his headboard in a fit of rage.

He does it again for good measure.

Gripping his hair tightly in one hand and grasping an empty bottle of rum in the other, Murdoc grits his teeth. He glances at his clock on the floor, unable to really see what time it is but he knows that it's morning. He reaches for a cigarette, sticks it in his mouth and lights it.

Inhale...

...Exhale.

"Shit."

_It's happening again_.

oOo

((routine))

It's not any warmer. The bitter air rattles his bones and he can almost see his breath as it comes out of his aching lungs.

Wrapping a scarf tightly around his neck, he trudges to his closet and rummages around until he _finally _fishes out his ratty old winter coat. It's been eaten by moths and it's nearly falling apart at the seams but it's comfortable enough.

Or at least, that's what he tells himself.

Sighing, he steps out of his Winnebago and heads in the general direction of Kong in search of more alcohol. He pauses mid-step, noticing 2D leaning against a wall in the distance with a cigarette hanging loosely between his lips. Narrowing his eyes, he continues walking and he waits for 2D's attention to drift.

It doesn't take long.

As to be expected, a bright smile stretches across the singer's face and Murdoc goes on the assumption that yesterday's strain is forgotten.

"Hey, Muds!" he calls over, waving enthusiastically as he pushes himself away from the wall. He walks briskly over to the bassist with a grin plastered to his face, taking the cigarette out of his mouth in offering. Murdoc pinches it out of the other's hands and takes a deep drag off of it, ignoring the impulse to say something stupid.

"Face ache." he grunts in reply, handing the cigarette back to the taller man with a look of confusion. He notices 2D's eyes glance over him and he almost feels self-conscious about his over-dressed appearance.

"...Why're you wearing all those layers?"

Murdoc rolls his eyes at the question.

"Why do bitches bark?" he asks in return, only to receive a blank stare. He snorts. "Never mind."

After the short exchange, both men wordlessly continue their journey towards the main building. 2D stops for a moment to put out the butt of his cigarette, crushing it clumsily under his shoe. The bassist takes this as his chance to look the singer over and he notices that the taller man is only dressed in night pants and a thin t-shirt.

"How in the name of Satan are you _not_ freezing your bollocks off?"

2D merely offers a shrug as they make their way to the entrance of the building.

"S'really not as cold as y'think it is."

"Of course it is." Murdoc retorts. "You're just too bloody stupid to notice."

2D looks like he wants to argue but he thinks better of it when he takes in Murdoc's expression.

They continue walking through the long expansive halls in silence until they find Russell and Noodle huddled together in the living room, image almost completely reminiscent to yesterday.

"Hi, Russ." 2D greets brightly, perching himself on the arm of the couch. He turns to face the television, surrendering his attention fully to the set and the light in his eyes starts to fade.

"Hey." the drummer drones in reply, keeping his eyes trained on the television screen. Noodle hums in acknowledgement and the room falls still, peaceful for the time being. Murdoc rolls his eyes at the pleasantries and seats himself in his chair, glancing at the TV in disinterest.

He never _did _understand the concept of morning cartoons.

"What in the name of Satan's asshole are-?"

"-_Don't be usin' that sorta language around my baby girl._" Russell barks, snarling, attention completely ripped away from the TV. Murdoc rolls his eyes and picks at his fingernails.

"Russ, she can't understand most of what we say. S'not gonna make any difference."

"Don't talk about her like she ain't here." the drummer snaps. "And her English is improvin' by the day. So watch yer mouth. And don't start thinkin' that you're off the hook for yesterday, either, because you're still on my list."

The bassist's smirk falls and his expression turns dark, mirth gone.

"Don't start talkin' all big, fat arse." he hisses, adjusting his lax position in his chair. "This is _my _fucking band, and I'll talk however I wanna _fucking _talk. Y'ain't my damn mother and you don't sign my pacheck, so I don't wanna hear _shit_."

Russell readies himself to lunge at the smaller man but Noodle and 2D intervene before he can do anything.

"Russ, just ignore him." 2D whispers, soft but not quiet enough to go unnoticed by Murdoc.

"Oi, you got something to contribute to this _riveting _debate, dent-face?" he snaps, smirking when 2D flinches. "Fire away, I'd _love_ to hear it."

The drummer scowls, positioning himself in front of the singer as if he were shielding him from the verbal lashing. "Leave the boy alone, Murdoc- he's just tryin' t'save _your _sorry ass."

Murdoc snorts, hardened grin turning nasty on his face.

"Look who's using bad language _now_." he taunts, and this time Russell _does _lunge at him. Murdoc blanches and leaps out of his chair, trying to distance himself from certain death. He darts across the room, narrowly escaping Russell's reach and lets out a terrified squawk.

"Don't you _dare _start runnin' you cracker-ass motherfu-"

"Russ, no!" 2D shouts, covering Noodle's ears fearfully. "She might start repeatin' it! Don't!"

Russell freezes, taking note of Noodle's confused smile and wordless gaze. He sighs in exasperation, ceasing his chase with a resigned nod. Meanwhile, Murdoc pretends that he _wasn't_ just scared for his life.

The singer removes his hands from the guitarist's ears and she scratches her head in a silent question.

"Why do you yell?" she asks, eyes searching for an impossible answer. "Why?"

Russell shakes his head, sighing, and takes her hand.

"Nothing, baby doll. Let's jus' get you ready for the day, alright? Go on to your room and I'll be with ya in a few."

Noodle's eyes alight with joy at his words and she offers him an excited smile, sprinting away to her room. Her laughter can be heard even when she's out of sight, traveling up the stairs, moving at lightening speed.

When the guitarist is out of hearing range, the singer decides to speak.

"...You two goin' somewhere?" he asks, smiling at the other hesitantly.

Russell nods.

"Noodle wants to go out and see the snow or somethin'." he explains, rubbing the back of his head in thought. "Not entirely sure, though."

Murdoc scoffs.

"Well what bloody good does _that_ do, moron?" he asks, laughing bitterly. "She can see the fucking snow through the windows. Why bother going out?"

Russell grits his teeth and sends Murdoc an unimpressed look, clenching his fists in irritation.

"Kong is fuckin' disgustin', Murdoc. I don't want her first experience with snow to be tainted with nasty dead things."

Murdoc rolls his eyes and grumbles something undeniably rude under his breath, face pulling into an unattractive sneer. Russell ignores him and turns his attention back to 2D.

"'D, ya wanna come with us?"

The singer looks like he wants to comply, _he really does,_ but when he looks over at the bassist he shakes his head regretfully.

"Sorry, Russ- I don' really feel like roamin' today."

The large man shrugs, indifferent.

"Alright, man. Some other time, then."

With that, he claps a hand to 2D's shoulder in farewell and sends one last scathing glare in Murdoc's direction.

"Later, guys.

It's silent for a moment after Russell leaves and Murdoc punches 2D's arm, intent playful but execution painful.

"That escalated mighty fast, wouldn't ya say, mate?"

When the singer fails to laugh at his joke, the bassist feels his expression fall. His heart sinks low in his chest and he grits his teeth.

"What's _your_ sodding problem, dent face?"

2D jumps at Murdoc's harsh tone, shielding his face with his arms protectively. "N-nothin', Muds! It's jus'-"

"-'Just' _what_, dullard?"

2D clamps mouth shut and bites his tongue to keep himself from speaking out of turn. When Murdoc doesn't say or do anything else, he continues.

"...S'jus' that you really shouldn' be sayin' swear words in front of Noodle, Muds. She's just a li'l kid, y'know. She don't understand what they _mean,_ but she's like a parrot."

Murdoc rolls his eyes at the comparison, expression that of a man who's on the verge of committing mass homicide.

Maybe he is.

"A parrot." he intones dryly.

The singer purses his lips in thought, opting to clarify. "I mean she repeats stuff if it's said 'nough times."

"I know what you fuckin' meant!"

(He didn't, though, and his face burns red with embarrassment.)

"S-sorry!" the singer yelps, shrinking away from the older man and he hides his face behind his hands. Once again, Murdoc doesn't say or do anything to harm him and 2D takes this as a sign to continue speaking. "...B-but seriously, Murdoc. We don't need Noodle hearin' that sorta stuff- she's gotta good head on her shoulders, y'know?"

The bassist can feel the muscles in his arms strain with the urge to hit the singer but he can't bring himself to do it.

He just can't.

oOo


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

note: this takes place DIRECTLY after last chapter

oOo

The trip back to his Winnebago proves to be a difficult one as he feigns nonchalance and passiveness. He forces a smile, forces apathy as he ignores the frown 2D sends his way.

A step up, a step forward and a step down. He reaches blindly to the side, through his cupboards and cabinets, pulling bottle after bottle to his chest in preparation for his binge.

He tips his head back and drinks, swallowing greedily in an attempt to wash away the morose and repentant feeling settling in his chest.

Murdoc Niccals doesn't feel guilt.

His heart, blackened and hardened over years of neglect and abuse, is too twisted and mangled to understand such a feeling.

Or so he tells himself. He keeps telling himself that his head is wrong, that his regretful heart is lying to him.

He trips over himself, falling onto his bed in a mass of bottles and limbs and he groans in frustration. The weight of his ribs pressing against smooth glass is painful, almost too much for even him to handle and he removes himself from the pile.

_Murdoc Niccals_ _doesn't feel guilt._

However, what _does_ feel, right now, is nothing short of unpleasant. He rolls onto his back, props himself on his elbows and allows himself to fall apart. One hand gripping the neck of a bottle and the other gripping at his hair, all he can see is 2D's disapproving frown.

He takes a deep swig off of his bottle of rum.

The night is still young. There's still time for him to drown and wallow in self-pity.

And time, strange as it is, shifts at a dull and sluggish pace. It morphs his perception into something almost malleable, tricking him, making him feel as if he's still fully there. His vision is blurry and unfocused, clouded with a drunken veil and he can almost_ feel_ his eyes crossing. They drift lazily, moving across the room and everything in his line of vision has a double.

Even the blue-haired figure standing in his doorway. However, when he blinks, it doesn't disappear.

"Muds?" the figure asks, voice laced with concern and hesitance and they remain stationed just outside of Murdoc's room. His grip on his hair loosens and he feels his shoulders relax at the gentle tone, coaxing him into a more placid state. He blinks blearily at them, trying his best to clear his vision and the figure comes into focus a bit more.

"Mm?" he asks, rubbing his face, taking note of the stubble beginning to grow there. "Who're...what're ya doin in here?"

The figure looms closer now, entering the room completely. The closeness of the figure fixes Murdoc's lack of focus, and he's suddenly able to recognize his visitor.

"Hey, Muds." 2D smiles nervously, seeming to take note of just how smashed Murdoc is. He pauses, grin faltering. "...It's 2D."

And now Murdoc is _smiling._

"Ahhh, yes, _yes!_" he croons, face brightening. "My li'l _song bird_."

2D's smile flickers a bit, eyebrows quirking at the other's possessive tone. He purses his lips, shoulders shrugging in acceptance.

"..Sure, Muds. Whatever you say."

Murdoc snorts, shaking his head and he adjusts his position on the bed in order to make room for the singer. Patting the spot next to him, he gazes up at the other expectantly and he notices 2D's critical glance. He narrows his eyes and taps his fingers irritably, patience wearing thin.

"Sit." he commands sharply, watching as the other scrambles onto his bed. "You did'n answer my _question_."

His words slur together and he leans his face in closer to 2D's. The singer's black eyes seem to cross at his close proximity and he leans back a bit, breathing deeply through his nose.

"What question?"

Murdoc growls in frustration and he runs his shaky fingers through his hair

"What're ya _doin_' in here?" he asks again, eyes narrowing dangerously. "I didn' ask ya t'come in. Don' tell me you're already lookin' for my company after what happened earlier."

2D offers him a crooked grin.

"Well... we're best mates, yeah? All's good, in my book."

Murdoc's hostile expression falters and he's left blank faced.

"O'course."

It's silent for a moment before 2D lets out a heavy sigh. Murdoc doesn't notice his surroundings beginning to fade or his hazy tunnel vision beginning to take over.

"An'..." the singer continues breathily, his voice a mere whisper, "I wanted to...see you."

Murdoc's heart nearly skips a beat and he chokes on his spit, coughing and spluttering in shock. 2D notices this and looks at him worriedly, attempting to assist him. Murdoc waves him off, gasping for air.

"Y-yeah?" he asks, and he's mortified at his inability to form a coherent sentence.

He tries again.

"Why?"

Blackness then consumes his vision. He blinks once, and suddenly his vision is clear, _almost startlingly so_ and he almost has to pinch himself to see if he's still awake. A pale hand comes to rest on his face, a thumb caresses his stubbled jaw and he swallows _hard_. Obsidian eyes stare into his own, shining brightly and there's just the faintest hint of mischief.

He doesn't know who is leaning towards who, but the next thing he knows is that there's a pair of lips pressing against his own and his heart is beating _fast._ They break apart for a moment, both panting heavily.

He knows that he should be angry but when he looks into 2D's eyes he can't find it in himself to feel that way. Without giving it a second thought he surges at the singer, flings his arms around his neck and shoulders and he kisses him fervently. Teeth bite at his lips to the point of bleeding and he moans in the back of his throat, fisting 2D's shirt tightly in his hands.

Lips latch onto his neck, pepper his face, press against his closed eyes and when he opens them 2D's gone.

Murdoc is still panting and although the sensation on his lips is gone he still feels the warmth in his groin.

Confusion soon turns into realization, and his eyes widen in shock.

"_FUCK_." he yelps, slamming his fist against his headboard in a fit of rage.

He does it again for good measure.

Gripping his hair tightly in one hand and grasping an empty bottle of rum in the other, Murdoc grits his teeth. He glances at his clock on the floor, unable to really see what time it is but he knows that it's morning. He reaches for a cigarette, sticks it in his mouth and lights it.

Inhale...

...Exhale.

"Shit."

_It's happening again_.

oOo

((routine))

It's not any warmer. The bitter air rattles his bones and he can almost see his breath as it comes out of his aching lungs.

Wrapping a scarf tightly around his neck, he trudges to his closet and rummages around until he _finally _fishes out his ratty old winter coat. It's been eaten by moths and it's nearly falling apart at the seams but it's comfortable enough.

Or at least, that's what he tells himself.

Sighing, he steps out of his Winnebago and heads in the general direction of Kong in search of more alcohol. He pauses mid-step, noticing 2D leaning against a wall in the distance with a cigarette hanging loosely between his lips. Narrowing his eyes, he continues walking and he waits for 2D's attention to drift.

It doesn't take long.

As to be expected, a bright smile stretches across the singer's face and Murdoc goes on the assumption that yesterday's strain is forgotten.

"Hey, Muds!" he calls over, waving enthusiastically as he pushes himself away from the wall. He walks briskly over to the bassist with a grin plastered to his face, taking the cigarette out of his mouth in offering. Murdoc pinches it out of the other's hands and takes a deep drag off of it, ignoring the impulse to say something stupid.

"Face ache." he grunts in reply, handing the cigarette back to the taller man with a look of confusion. He notices 2D's eyes glance over him and he almost feels self-conscious about his over-dressed appearance.

"...Why're you wearing all those layers?"

Murdoc rolls his eyes at the question.

"Why do bitches bark?" he asks in return, only to receive a blank stare. He snorts. "Never mind."

After the short exchange, both men wordlessly continue their journey towards the main building. 2D stops for a moment to put out the butt of his cigarette, crushing it clumsily under his shoe. The bassist takes this as his chance to look the singer over and he notices that the taller man is only dressed in night pants and a thin t-shirt.

"How in the name of Satan are you _not_ freezing your bollocks off?"

2D merely offers a shrug as they make their way to the entrance of the building.

"S'really not as cold as y'think it is."

"Of course it is." Murdoc retorts. "You're just too bloody stupid to notice."

2D looks like he wants to argue but he thinks better of it when he takes in Murdoc's expression.

They continue walking through the long expansive halls in silence until they find Russell and Noodle huddled together in the living room, image almost completely reminiscent to yesterday.

"Hi, Russ." 2D greets brightly, perching himself on the arm of the couch. He turns to face the television, surrendering his attention fully to the set and the light in his eyes starts to fade.

"Hey." the drummer drones in reply, keeping his eyes trained on the television screen. Noodle hums in acknowledgement and the room falls still, peaceful for the time being. Murdoc rolls his eyes at the pleasantries and seats himself in his chair, glancing at the TV in disinterest.

He never _did _understand the concept of morning cartoons.

"What in the name of Satan's asshole are-?"

"-_Don't be usin' that sorta language around my baby girl._" Russell barks, snarling, attention completely ripped away from the TV. Murdoc rolls his eyes and picks at his fingernails.

"Russ, she can't understand most of what we say. S'not gonna make any difference."

"Don't talk about her like she ain't here." the drummer snaps. "And her English is improvin' by the day. So watch yer mouth. And don't start thinkin' that you're off the hook for yesterday, either, because you're still on my list."

The bassist's smirk falls and his expression turns dark, mirth gone.

"Don't start talkin' all big, fat arse." he hisses, adjusting his lax position in his chair. "This is _my _fucking band, and I'll talk however I wanna _fucking _talk. Y'ain't my damn mother and you don't sign my pacheck, so I don't wanna hear _shit_."

Russell readies himself to lunge at the smaller man but Noodle and 2D intervene before he can do anything.

"Russ, just ignore him." 2D whispers, soft but not quiet enough to go unnoticed by Murdoc.

"Oi, you got something to contribute to this _riveting _debate, dent-face?" he snaps, smirking when 2D flinches. "Fire away, I'd _love_ to hear it."

The drummer scowls, positioning himself in front of the singer as if he were shielding him from the verbal lashing. "Leave the boy alone, Murdoc- he's just tryin' t'save _your _sorry ass."

Murdoc snorts, hardened grin turning nasty on his face.

"Look who's using bad language _now_." he taunts, and this time Russell _does _lunge at him. Murdoc blanches and leaps out of his chair, trying to distance himself from certain death. He darts across the room, narrowly escaping Russell's reach and lets out a terrified squawk.

"Don't you _dare _start runnin' you cracker-ass motherfu-"

"Russ, no!" 2D shouts, covering Noodle's ears fearfully. "She might start repeatin' it! Don't!"

Russell freezes, taking note of Noodle's confused smile and wordless gaze. He sighs in exasperation, ceasing his chase with a resigned nod. Meanwhile, Murdoc pretends that he _wasn't_ just scared for his life.

The singer removes his hands from the guitarist's ears and she scratches her head in a silent question.

"Why do you yell?" she asks, eyes searching for an impossible answer. "Why?"

Russell shakes his head, sighing, and takes her hand.

"Nothing, baby doll. Let's jus' get you ready for the day, alright? Go on to your room and I'll be with ya in a few."

Noodle's eyes alight with joy at his words and she offers him an excited smile, sprinting away to her room. Her laughter can be heard even when she's out of sight, traveling up the stairs, moving at lightening speed.

When the guitarist is out of hearing range, the singer decides to speak.

"...You two goin' somewhere?" he asks, smiling at the other hesitantly.

Russell nods.

"Noodle wants to go out and see the snow or somethin'." he explains, rubbing the back of his head in thought. "Not entirely sure, though."

Murdoc scoffs.

"Well what bloody good does _that_ do, moron?" he asks, laughing bitterly. "She can see the fucking snow through the windows. Why bother going out?"

Russell grits his teeth and sends Murdoc an unimpressed look, clenching his fists in irritation.

"Kong is fuckin' disgustin', Murdoc. I don't want her first experience with snow to be tainted with nasty dead things."

Murdoc rolls his eyes and grumbles something undeniably rude under his breath, face pulling into an unattractive sneer. Russell ignores him and turns his attention back to 2D.

"'D, ya wanna come with us?"

The singer looks like he wants to comply, _he really does,_ but when he looks over at the bassist he shakes his head regretfully.

"Sorry, Russ- I don' really feel like roamin' today."

The large man shrugs, indifferent.

"Alright, man. Some other time, then."

With that, he claps a hand to 2D's shoulder in farewell and sends one last scathing glare in Murdoc's direction.

"Later, guys.

It's silent for a moment after Russell leaves and Murdoc punches 2D's arm, intent playful but execution painful.

"That escalated mighty fast, wouldn't ya say, mate?"

When the singer fails to laugh at his joke, the bassist feels his expression fall. His heart sinks low in his chest and he grits his teeth.

"What's _your_ sodding problem, dent face?"

2D jumps at Murdoc's harsh tone, shielding his face with his arms protectively. "N-nothin', Muds! It's jus'-"

"-'Just' _what_, dullard?"

2D clamps mouth shut and bites his tongue to keep himself from speaking out of turn. When Murdoc doesn't say or do anything else, he continues.

"...S'jus' that you really shouldn' be sayin' swear words in front of Noodle, Muds. She's just a li'l kid, y'know. She don't understand what they _mean,_ but she's like a parrot."

Murdoc rolls his eyes at the comparison, expression that of a man who's on the verge of committing mass homicide.

Maybe he is.

"A parrot." he intones dryly.

The singer purses his lips in thought, opting to clarify. "I mean she repeats stuff if it's said 'nough times."

"I know what you fuckin' meant!"

(He didn't, though, and his face burns red with embarrassment.)

"S-sorry!" the singer yelps, shrinking away from the older man and he hides his face behind his hands. Once again, Murdoc doesn't say or do anything to harm him and 2D takes this as a sign to continue speaking. "...B-but seriously, Murdoc. We don't need Noodle hearin' that sorta stuff- she's gotta good head on her shoulders, y'know?"

The bassist can feel the muscles in his arms strain with the urge to hit the singer but he can't bring himself to do it.

He just can't.

oOo


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**note**: this chapter takes place directly after last chapter 8)

oOo

The first thought that comes to his waking mind is that his nose itches. It's the first thing he notices and it's the first thing he takes care of. Blinking away the sleep from his eyes, he sits up and the room spins without his permission. He grabs a dirty tissue off of his bed and blows his nose with a grimace, mentally chastising himself when he looks at its contents.

"I feel like shit." Murdoc moans, his voice hoarse with sleep and disuse and he lets out a throaty cough. He scratches the side of his nose tiredly, rubbing a hand across his face and he sighs when he doesn't magically feel better.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, feet still clad in his grime covered boots, he runs his fingers through his hair and pushes himself off of his mattress. His eyes dart around the room suspiciously, and he checks the area for anything remotely shifty before shrugging the uneasy feeling off.

Just as he begins making his way for the exit a hard pounding sounds against the other side of the door and he nearly jumps out of his skin in surprise. After a moment of stiff silence his surprise quickly passes and is replaced with fiery indignation. Yanking the door open with a snarl, hands twitching at his sides, he readies himself to act out in violence. That is, of course, until he realizes that the eyes he's staring into are devoid of life.

Murdoc frowns.

"...Russ? The fuck are _you_ doing out here?"

Now, one might say that Russell looks _sheepish,_ but that isn't the right word. He looks hesitant. Somewhere along those lines_. _The larger man crosses his arms over his chest and gives him a brief once-over.

"Look, Muds," Russell sighs, and Murdoc tries in vain to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head. "You and I both know that I didn't wanna come out here into your digs just to strike up conversation. I understand that this is your personal space. But no one else was willing come over, so it looks like _I'm _gonna hafta be the one to say it."

That little admission strikes a very sensitive nerve within Murdoc and he growls, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently. "What the fuck do you _want_? I don't have all day, I've got places to be."

Russell purses his lips at the other's tactlessness.

"...You _do _realize that we're a _band_, right?"

Murdoc stares vacantly at the other man for a few seconds before barking a laugh.

"Well no _duh._" he sneers, uncrossing his arms and planting his hands on his hips. "What of it?"

Russell rolls his eyes.

"_Look_." he says sternly, side stepping to make room for the shorter man as he clambers out of his mobile home. "We're a band. It's our _job_ to interact with each other in order to get shit done and pay the bills. Which means we actually gotta start _practicing_. With _instruments_. So we don't go _broke_."

His words are slow and precise, as if Murdoc would fail to understand if he delivered them any other way. The bassist can't believe what he's hearing. If it weren't so funny he'd feel insulted.

"...You're sayin' you came all the way out here for _that_?" he cackles, gripping the larger man's elbow for support through his broken laughter. Once he finds his composure he continues speaking, albeit smugly. "Listen, _Russ,_ we got all the time in the _world_ for that."

Russell groans in frustration, rubbing the heels of his hands into his tired eyes.

"No we _don't_! Jesus fuck, _Murdo_-"

"-HUSH!" Murdoc hisses, holding a finger up to silence the other man. "Christ, Russ, you've gone and twisted my arm right out of its socket. We can hold a practice session tomorrow, if that's what'll get your knickers sorted out." he pauses for breath before continuing. "Today, though? Not on your fucking life. I'm too hungover to deal with you lot."

Russell looks like he wants argue but he settles for a sigh, deed done and not really needing or _wanting _to say anything else.

"Whatever, man. Fine."

Watching the other man disappear into the building, Murdoc feels a shiver travel up his spine and he suddenly remembers just how _cold _it is in the carpark. He turns, nearly tripping over himself as he steps back into his Winnebago. He digs through his closet and wraps himself in several long-sleeved shirts and a scarf, starting to resemble something closer to an unfortunate mannequin than a man. Satisfied, he stumbles back out into the elements and ventures toward Kong, ready to be out of his usual sub-zero environment.

Minutes pass by slowly until he _finally_ reaches the others, and he notices that none of them are wearing extra layers. Or anything to really keep themselves warm.

"How in the Hell are you nitwits not freezin' to death out here?"

2D offers Murdoc an unimpressed stare in place of a proper greeting, not even bothering to wave or give any indication that his presence is welcome. Murdoc chooses not to acknowledge the other's stony silence, although it _does_ create a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Russell raises a skeptical brow, the corners of his mouth pulling down in trepidation. Noticing the sudden atmosphere change, he glances between the two men suspiciously, brain conjuring up a number of possible questions he _could_ ask, but won't. He keeps his attention on Murdoc instead, deciding that asking any questions regarding the two of them would just end up being uncomfortable for everyone.

"The hell are you doin' here, Muds?" he asks, craning his neck to get a better look at the bassist. "I thought you were _too hungover _to deal with us. Y'can't have it both ways."

Murdoc waves the comment off, slowly making his way over to the group.

"Don't sound _too_ heartbroken over me, Russ." he says with a sly smile. "Uncle Murdoc is prone to changing his mind whenever he damn well pleases, so why don't you just shove it up your-"

"-_Murdoc._" 2D snaps suddenly, sharp tone taking the bassist and drummer by surprise. "For Christ's sake, man, Noodle's _right_ _here!_"

Murdoc freezes in place, slackjawed and numb at the other's outburst. His shock, however, quickly gives way to anger and his eyes narrow into dangerous slits. He strides over to the taller man in a huff and grabs the front of his shirt, yanking him down to eye-level, just _itching _to get a good punch in.

"Listen, _you_." he snarls, spit flying out of his mouth in ricochets. He raises a fist in threat and makes a vague gesture toward the other side of the room. "Learn your place and _stop_ telling me what to do before I send you flying out that bloody window."

Anyone with eyes could tell that 2D looks pissed_-_ _even Murdoc can see that_\- but his natural meekness keeps him from snapping again.

"...I..I don' tell ya what to do, Muds." he says softly, carefully, his voice almost calm despite the silent anger in his eyes. "M'sorry."

Murdoc nods in acceptance and lowers his fist, but before he can say or do _anything_ Russell interjects with a scoff.

"'D, you don't gotta keep apologizing to that old fart every time he threatens you. Y'didn't do anything wrong, it ain't worth lowering yourself so his ego feels stroked."

It only takes a moment before his anger resurfaces and finds a new, admittedly intimidating, target.

"I ain't fucking _old_, you _gorilla_!" Murdoc snarls, shoving the singer away, unknowingly challenging Russell to a screaming match. Before it has the chance to escalate into something much larger, they're interrupted by a high-pitched whine.

"SHUT UP!" Noodle barks sharply, effectively silencing the two men. "No. No fight."

Murdoc and Russell glance at each other in silence, choosing to keep still and quiet through their berating. Noodle glowers at the two of them and points at Murdoc, eyes hardening.

"No hurt Toochie."

She makes up for her lack in English skills with her ability to intimidate.

"...'Toochie'..?" he repeats dumbly, evoking an irritated growl from the young girl. She points at the singer as if to clarify.

"_Too_-chie." she says again, punctuating each syllable with a sharp jab of her finger. Murdoc notices the prideful smile forming on Russell's lips and he frowns in confusion. "Murdoc-san hurts Toochie."

The bassist looks between her finger and the tall man next to him and just like that realization dawns on him.

"I didn't hurt him!" Murdoc defends himself quickly, offended but not really having a right to be. Noodle waves him off, obviously _done _with the situation and she goes back to doing whatever she was doing before she snapped.

The quiet baritone of Russell's muffled laughter begins to make its presence known, physically shaking the drummer in his hysterics.

"Afraid of a child, Muds?" he taunts, snickering openly behind a large hand. "That's my babydoll for ya."

"Of course I'm not." the bassist mutters hotly, grinding his teeth in agitation, averting his eyes. He notices that 2D looks entirely put-off, annoyance apparent in his features.

He feels kind of sick, more so _now _than he did when he first woke up and he's starting to fear that he might have to rush to the bathroom. No one seems to notice his distress and 2D's annoyed expression intensifies the moment his eyes meet Murdoc's.

And then it melts away completely. Now he looks concerned.

"Muds, are you okay?" he asks, _definitely_ worried now. Murdoc shakes his head vigorously, stumbling a bit and he feels his skin beginning to break out into a cold-sweat.

"M'fine." he grunts, backing away with a hand pressed to his face. He feels _beyond _nauseous, mouth dry and he needs a drink _now_. He hears Russell asking what's wrong, 2D's steps are drawing closer and Murdoc wants the room to stop spinning.

He hears ringing in his ears and he feels a familiar arm wrap around his waist in an attempt to hold him up. He doesn't bother looking up to know who it is.

"Russ, can you take Noodle somewhere else, please?" 2D asks softly, trying to drag Murdoc over to the couch where Noodle is perched.

"..Sure thing, 'D." Russell says slowly, looking completely _un_sure of the situation and he takes Noodle's hand into his own.

They leave the room without another word.

The singer helps the bassist onto the couch, struggling to get his arm free. "Are you sick or somethin'?"

Murdoc groans in response, biting his lip to ebb off the nausea. "Not that I know of, face ache. Just more hungover than I thought I was. Havin' a moment."

"...Are you gonna need help gettin' to the Winnie?"

Murdoc closes his eyes and sighs tiredly.

"I wanna say _no_, but that'd be a lie."

oOo

Somehow this whole situation feels familiar to him. It's vague, prodding the back of his mind only slightly- a mere echo of a memory- but it's just enough to evoke embarrassment.

He's stumbling towards his Winnebago, an arm is wrapped firmly around his waist and he's desperately trying not to fall over.

It's definitely familiar, and it's _definitely _a taking a hit on his pride.

Where did his dignity go? When did it die, and _why_ wasn't he made aware of it's passing?

He can't remember anything that happened last night.

He doesn't know if his memory is impaired due to a blackout or by sheer force of will, but he's sort of glad he can't remember anything because the faint discomfort he's feeling is disgusting and would probably be worse if he _did_ remember.

He feels himself being _dragged_ rather than _helped_ into his home and if he weren't feeling so nauseous he'd say something. Each step feels like three to him, warbling his brain and after a few seconds vertigo-induced tripping he's tossed unceremoniously onto his bed.

"Muds, I'm gonna get you some water and painkillers, alright?" 2D says softly, adjusting Murdoc's body slightly before backing away. "I'll be right back."

"Y'don't need t'do that, I just need a drink." Murdoc groans, reaching over the side of his bed blindly. His search only lasts for a second before he feels his wrist being smacked away. He starts, snatching his hand back protectively. "_Piss off!_"

"Muds, I ain't gonna be here all day with ya, just wait a sec and drink some water. I'll be outta your face in a minute." 2D tries to reason, grin straining unpleasantly. He stares at the other for a moment longer before he leaves the room.

Murdoc, after a few seconds of heavy silence, finally starts getting his bearings straight and he notices that he doesn't feel quite as awful as he had a few minutes ago. Still, the lights are too bright and his eyesight is swimming. A glass of water is thrust into his hands and he glares up at the singer.

"...M'not gonna drink this." he mutters under his breath, earning a light laughs from 2D.

"C'mon, mate. Cheers." the singer insists handing the bassist a couple of pain killers. "For your headache."

"_You're_ a headache, dullard."

2D grins brightly and Murdoc almost has to squint just to look at it. He takes the pills from the other man's hand, popping them into his mouth and he swallows them with a sip of water. He grimaces at the familiar sensation and he clenches his jaw. When he doesn't say or do anything else 2D begins to fidget.

"Well," the singer says with an unsure smile, "I'll be off, then." He pats Murdoc's shoulder once in a show of comfort and turns to leave.

"Hey, face ache." Murdoc says quickly, trying to keep 2D in the room for a moment longer. The singer stops immediately and turns when he's addressed, quirking a brow.

"Yeah? What is it, Muds?"

Not really having thought of a follow up, the bassist flounders. Cursing himself, he tries to think of something to say.

"..Er..t-thanks." he chokes out, surprised at his own sincerity. He pauses. "For not dropping me, that is."

The smile that forms on 2D's face is quite possibly one of the most precious things Murdoc has ever seen in his life. He frowns and turns away, lowering himself onto his back.

"You're welcome."

And with that, he leaves.

And although he's no longer in the room and even though his footsteps in the carpark have faded, Murdoc can hear humming.

He reaches over the side of his bed, cracks open a beer and slugs it down.

It must be the alcoholism, because he suddenly feels like himself again.

oOo

A/N: he blacked out man. this chpater suc kS DICK


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**note:** this chapter takes place the day after last chapter 8) yolo

oOo

Murdoc is a man who always keeps his promises; that's the main reason why he never makes them in the first place.

Yesterday, he had promised Russell that Gorillaz would hold a _much needed_ practice session in Kong's now desolate recording studio. He kept his word. And, despite his overly-confident front, it's proving to be rather difficult for him.

His focus, usually so insistent and_ there_, has been shot.

2D stands front and center, as always, toying with his instrument in between songs. That's normal, and to be expected. And, _as always_, he's oblivious to his surroundings and to those who watch him.

His lips press and move against the microphone in a sensual manner, and his eyes fall closed as if he were caught up in some sort of dream. He's the epitome of beauty in Murdoc's eyes.

He watches 2D's throat intently, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. Murdoc feels himself grow hot, breath hitching in his chest.

Caught up in his moment of silent admiration, Murdoc finds himself royally fucking up his chord progression. He pretends that there aren't three pairs of eyes on him and just goes with it, too proud to admit that he screwed up.

He hears a grunt from behind and his ears twitch in annoyance, going about his business and keeping his mouth shut.

After a few more minutes of this charade Russell lets out an aggravated huff of air and claps his hands together once, announcing to the others that he's had enough. Murdoc, surprised, doesn't have it in him to argue.

Noodle offers Russell a confused look before nodding solemnly, mouth forming into a pout. They pack up their belongings in silence, both casting Murdoc uneasy looks over their shoulders before leaving the room.

Murdoc coughs.

"I thought that went bloody _perfect_, if you ask me."

"O'course it did." 2D says with a fond smile, putting his keyboard away with a surprising amount of concentration. "S'_your_ band, after all."

Murdoc doesn't know whether he's being sarcastic or not but that doesn't stop his heart from leaping into his throat or a prideful smile from forming on his face.

"Got that right, Stu-Pot." he agrees, cocking his head to the side with a cheeky grin.

2D snickers, straightening his back painfully and he cracks his spine with a relieved sigh. Murdoc wrinkles his nose, face contorting in disgust.

"Y'know I ain't one to judge, an' I don' really _care,_ but tha' _can't_ be good for your back."

"Can't be _bad _for it either, since people pay strangers to do it for 'em all the time." 2D replies, cracking his neck. He sighs, rotating his shoulders in satisfaction.

Murdoc watches on, horror-struck.

"Don't do that."

2D tilts his head in a silent question, raising a brow.

"Do what?" he asks innocently, bending swiftly, his knees cracking as a result.

Murdoc shudders.

"Stop fucking _doing that _to your joints, it's disgusting." he snarls, stepping away from the singer. "You're practically a skeleton already, 'D. _Christ_."

2D lets out a small laugh, striding towards the bassist with a plan and a purpose. He lifts his hands, cracking his knuckles next to Murdoc's exposed ear and the bassist in question lets out a violent shudder. His face pinches up in distaste and his fists clench in aggravation.

"_Stop it_." he snarls, elbowing the singer sharply in the stomach. 2D doubles over in pain, coughing, wheezing, making a sound that crosses between sobbing and laughter. "You're a little shit."

2D moans hoarsely, trying to straighten himself out and he rubs his stomach tenderly.

"Sorry."

Murdoc rolls his eyes in annoyance, not really wanting to delve into this little... _thing_ any further.

"Whatever, Tusspot. S'fine."

2D scrunches his nose at the name, brows furrowing.

Murdoc, having had enough of the other's company, begins walking towards the door. He doesn't make it very far, though, and before he can even start crossing the room a slender hand takes hold of his wrist. He glances over his shoulder in surprise, and his surprise soon turns to shock as he watches 2D raise their joined hands in the air.

The singer examines the bassist's bony hand for a moment, thumb rubbing against the back of it soothingly before a mischievous grin lights his face. In one fluid moment he's cracking Murdoc's knuckles, not a single one spared or missed.

All feelings of shock and nervous flutters of his stomach are forgotten as the bassist let's out a horrified shriek, snatching his hand away in outrage.

"OH MY _GOD_." he bellows, and in the midst of his rage he forgets himself and his religion as he tackles 2D to the ground. They roll around on the floor for a good thirty-seconds, limbs locked, and Murdoc would've had 2D pinned if it weren't for the singer's long legs and surprisingly quick reflexes.

"I'm gonna break your neck." Murdoc hisses, trying to squirm free from 2D's grasp. The singer looks nervous, disentangling himself from the bassist the best he can.

"Sorry, I thought it'd be funny."

Murdoc glowers and he averts his gaze, his angry frown threatening to break into a smile.

"Well it wasn't."

oOo

The sun is trying it's damnedest to peek out through the smog and clouds, but it just can't seem to get there.

Murdoc doesn't mind this.

What he _does _mind, however, is the fact that he needs to wear gloves and a hat to protect himself from the cold. They're _not_ mittens, they're _not_for girls but they _are_stupid and he's never going to wear them outside of the house. Or so he tells himself.

Murdoc and 2D stand outside on the balcony, leaning against the railing and they smoke together in relative silence. The bassist looks over the landfill, the smell of death and rot infiltrating his nostrils but he doesn't really take notice of the stench.

"I think you look nice." 2D says offhandedly, interrupting Murdoc's train of thought. His shoulders stiffen at the unexpected compliment and he bites down on his cigarette, choking in surprise.

"S'cuse me?" he splutters, glaring up at the taller man through his embarrassment.

2D doesn't seem to understand why Murdoc is so flustered.

"You keep sayin' you look stupid." he explains, shrugging, looking over the landfill with a frown. "But you don't."

"I look like a fuckin' moron." Murdoc mutters, pulling the hat over his ears to hide his embarrassment. "I usually don't give a shit about what people gotta say but_come on_."

2D inhales his cigarette slowly, exhaling even slower and he surrenders his attention to the shorter man.

"Muds, the only person sayin' anything is _you_."

For once, the kid has a point.

Before he can stop himself, he blurts:

"_You_ did the other day."

2D looks taken aback by the statement before he seems to recall something. His mouth twitches with a smile and he nods.

"Oh _yeah_." he laughs, snorting. "Don' worry 'bout that, Muds. S'just me bein' an idiot."

"You're not an idiot." Murdoc argues, irritated at the other's self-deprecating words. Then he clamps his mouth shut, realizing his mistake. To say that 2D looks surprised would be an understatement.

"Huh?" he asks dumbly, cigarette hanging loosely from his gaping mouth. Murdoc swallows and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to save himself.

"Not all the time, I mean. Y'know. You have your moments."

The disappointment on 2D's face is heartbreaking, but he recovers quickly and offers a smile. "Thanks, mate."

Murdoc puts his cigarette out and tosses it over the railing, leaning his head forward slightly.

"No problem, 'D."

oOo

The car ride is peaceful. Which is surprising, due to the fact that there is an overly-excited 2D in the passenger seat, babbling away and talking about who knows what.

"It's nice out." 2D comments lightly, smiling out at the grey, sun-less sky. Murdoc barks a laugh at his observation.

"No it isn't."

2D sighs, leaning his head against his arm and gazes out at the passing buildings. "It's just so quiet, y'know? I like it."

Murdoc purses his lips in thought, but he doesn't say anything. The convenience store is nearly in sight and a smile grows on his face.

"There she is." he sighs, his voice holding the smallest touch of raw emotion. He pulls up sharply, jostling his passenger and hops out with a surprising amount of vigor.

"I'll be right back."

2D hands the bassist some crumpled bills, earnest. "Don't forget my ciggies, Muds."

Murdoc rolls his eyes, snatching the money from the other's hand. "Sod off, _Mum_, I won't forget."

"You've forgotten them befo-"

"Shut_ up._" he snaps impatiently, stomping off into the store with a scowl. A rush of warm air rolls over him and he shivers in pleasure, sighing contentedly whilst scouring the shelves for his goodies.

He plucks up a couple bottles of this and that, a six-pack of beer and heads to the counter with an excited grin. The cashier eyes him funnily, raising their brow in question at Murdoc's choice of dress but he ignores them. He asks for two packs of cigarettes, pays for all of it with his card and pockets 2D's money.

He heads back to the Geep in record time, dumps the bag on 2D's lap and drops himself into the driver's seat.

"Your shit's on top."

2D rifles through the bag, grabbing his carton of cigarettes and he stuffs them into his pants pocket.

"Thanks, Muds." he says gratefully, a toothy smile gracing his lips. He pauses.

"...W'sup with all the booze, mate? Got a party or somethin'?"

"Nah, m'expanding my collection." Murdoc replies dryly, sarcasm lacing his tone. 2D doesn't really seem to catch onto it but he doesn't question the statement.

"Hm."

Ignoring him, Murdoc starts the car noisily and makes a show of breaking out into the streets once more. The wheels screech obnoxiously against the pavement, filling the otherwise awkward silence.

After a few minutes of non-conversaion, Murdoc clicks his tongue and sighs heavily through his nose. His eyes dart over to 2D, back onto the road, and towards his bag of alcohol. His fingers rap against the steering wheel in thought and he bites his inner cheek, contemplating his options.

"Hey, 'D?" he asks softly, startling even himself with his meek tone. 2D jolts in surprise, staring at him with wide, curious eyes.

"Yeah, Muds?"

Murdoc pauses, opening his mouth to speak before shutting it. He takes a deep breath, clenches his teeth and focuses on the road.

"...D'ya wanna have a drink with me later?" he finally asks, glancing at the singer in the corner of his eye. It falls silent, and he realizes just how_gay _that sounded.

He tries again.

"In my Winnie? Like ol' times?"

He doesn't want to sound like he's desperate for 2D's company, but...he's desperate for his company. He glances at him once more and he notices just how shocked the singer looks. Eyes impossibly wide, mouth agape...

And then he smiles.

"Like ol' times, huh?" 2D laughs, prodding his pockets, pulling a cigarette out of his pack absentmindedly. "Not gonna ram me in the head with your car this time?"

Murdoc snorts. "Nah, I'll save that for later."

2D nods, sticking his cigarette in his mouth, lighting it.

"Alright then."

Murdoc grins, stomach nervous and and he wonders just what the hell he got himself into.

oOo


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

note: this takes place directly after last chapter! sort of 8)

oOo

Murdoc Niccals is, for once, genuinely happy. There isn't any other way to explain it.

He sighs in contentment and his body grows lax, falling to rest heavily against his splintering headboard. A beer sits tight in his grip and he laughs when 2D breaks the comfortable silence.

"_S-swan scones_?" Murdoc chokes out between cackles, nudging the other man with the toe of his shoe. He still has his boots on and they rub a bit of grime onto the singer's clothing but 2D doesn't seem to mind. "Y'serious?"

2D offers him a grin, expression open and mirthful. "Yeah, mate. S'brilliant, wouldn't ya say?"

Murdoc nods slowly, eyes betraying his good natured sarcasm.

"Well _shit_, y'sold me. Yeah! Good business pitch, kid, you're definitely goin' places."

He finishes his sentence with a snort, taking another swig from his beer. He tosses the empty can at 2D's head, watching in amusement as it hits him with a dull _clang_. 2D rubs his forehead absentmindedly, Murdoc's action going unnoticed for the most part.

"I wouldn' be a good business owner, though." 2D sighs, childish tone gone. "Er.. When I worked at the keyboard shop people had good things to say 'bout me. I guess I was pretty helpful. But... I'm a li'l gone in the head, now. M'different. Can't interact with people the same as I used to, y'know?"

Murdoc doesn't have an answer to that. Silent, he cracks open another beer and slurps on it messily, liquid dripping down his chin and the front of his shirt. He feels his haze deepen and he embraces it welcomingly, _anything _to get away from the horrible feeling settling in his gut.

"M'not mad about it, Muds." 2D says suddenly, once again breaking the silence and his black eyes convey honest truth. "I like bein' here. I like bein' a part of somethin'. I never had that before. I was bored, I was borin' and then _you_ showed up. In a car, ramming into my head causing blackness an' when I woke up... you were still there."

Murdoc can't handle this emotional discovery and he hides his face, gritting his teeth, trying to breathe evenly.

He can't breathe evenly.

2D mistakes Murdoc's uneven breathing for anger and he flounders.

"S-sorry, Muds! Shouldn' be talkin'bout that shit, eh?" he laughs uncertainly, running his fingers through his hair. "I know, I know. Gotta stop doin' that."

Again, Murdoc doesn't answer. He sets his beer off to the side and opens a bottle of rum, pressing the end to his lips. He hands it to the singer, eyes downcast.

"Drink." he commands, desperate for the good mood to return even if he has to force it through binge-drinking. 2D obeys, already buzzed enough to know that he wants more alcohol in his system. He doesn't question Murdoc, he just tips his head back and drinks.

Murdoc watches 2D's throat intently as he swallows, long tongue lolling out of his mouth as heavy drool rips down his chin. Mortified, he wipes at his face quickly with his shirtsleeve, looking off in the direction opposite of 2D. Everything is starting to grow hazy around the edges but after a while it becomes comfortable again.

Murdoc eventually pulls out a deck of cards and they commence in playing a round. They remain sitting across from each other, hunched over, cross-legged and 2D is already losing their game.

"Y'know Muds," he says offhandedly, "we should have band practices more frequently. We weren't bad today, but if we're gonna make it _global _we gotta start...I dunno. _Killin' _it." His tone is resolute and determined. He glances down at his cards and the whole of it catches Murdoc off-guard.

He feels his brow twitch in agitation.

"I'm gonna kill _somethin'_, alright.." he mutters darkly, keeping his focus on their game. He lets out a triumphant laugh when he notices that he has the winning hand. Slamming his cards down in front of him, he cries, "_Suck on that,_ Two-Dents!"

2D looks down at them in silence, confident shoulders slouching in dismay. He sighs, tossing his own cards off to the side with an annoyed huff. "I don't even know what we're playin', Muds. You keep changing the rules an-"

Murdoc waves a finger in 2D's face, silencing him.

"Don't question my logic, sunbeam." he says with a smirk, lowering his hand to his lap. "Nothing wrong with a bit of improvisation."

2D's eyes widen in surprise and he frowns. "Murdoc, that goes against every game rule ever."

The bassist chuckles darkly, sneering. "Not in _my _games, mate. What I say goes." he glances at the strewn deck of cards, lamenting. "And_ I say_that I'm done with this stupid game."

The singer looks as if he's rolling his eyes. The motion of his face is right but it's hard to tell when they're all blacked out.

"Good."

oOo

It's dark.

Even though 2D is sitting right in front of him, laughing, talking, Murdoc can hear soft whispers brushing against his ear. Through his drunken tunneled vision he can see the singer sending him a weird look, concern and skepticism clear on his face.

Then he smiles.

"Y'alrigh', Muds?" 2D asks, his words slurring together in a garbled indecipherable mess. He sets his elbow on his outstretched leg and leans his cheek in his open palm, glancing at the other questioningly. "Y'look sorta... I dunno. _Funny_."

"No I don't." Murdoc hisses, his body turning hot despite his claims and _yes _he looks and feels very funny.

He can tell that he's a lot worse off than the singer. Truth be told, 2D didn't drink a whole lot- he has a nice buzz to him, but he's not much into alcohol.

Murdoc is fucking sloshed, though.

"Yeah y'do." 2D sighs, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. He closes his eyes dreamily, sighing.

"You're not even fuckin' _lookin_' a'me, dullard." Murdoc whines, he _whines_, and smacks 2D on the leg impatiently. "I don' look soddin' _funny_."

2D snickers and opens his eyes slowly, black orbs shining wetly in the dim lighting and Murdoc feels his stomach squirm.

"Yeah, y'really _do_, Muds."

The bassist doesn't know what to say. He just stares at the singer, closing his mouth and he sits back against his headboard.

"Hm." he replies, a soft gravely hum emanating from deep within his chest. 2D just smiles fondly at him, making a move to crack his wrists but he stops himself when Murdoc shoots him a crazed look_._

2D starts to hum softly, a little off key due to disuse but Murdoc still thinks it sounds lovely.

He feels his body grow tired as he listens to the soft melodic hums, but his eyes remain open and he stares at 2D's mouth. It's closed, but it still holds a sort of..._movement. _His body is moving of its own accord, against his will and before he can stop himself he's settling above 2D's lap. The singer's soft hums stop abruptly and he stares into the bassist's eyes curiously, a little uncomfortable with the close proximity.

"What're you doin' Muds?" he asks, a small frown pulling at his mouth.

"Nothin'." Murdoc replies, and he really _isn't_ doing anything. He just wants to be closer to his dear friend Stuart Pot, and what's wrong with that? He settles closer, sits himself down on 2D's lap and wraps his arms around the singer's neck. "Nothin'."

And now 2D can't say anything because Murdoc is wrapping him up in a warm embrace. The bassist knows he shouldn't be doing this, that it's completely out of character for him to show any sort of affection for someone else but he's just so_ drunk_ and he really wants this small moment.

He wants _something_.

He can feel 2D's arms wrap around his waist, loosely returning the hug and he tightens his hold. He presses himself fully against the singer, inhaling deeply through his nose and he appreciates the sweet sugary scent that 2D radiates. Butterscotch, cigarettes and _warmth_. He knows that on 2D's side, this is just him being _weird_ and_clingy_.

Which is _true_, but there's more to it than that.

He feels a hand patting his back and the arms around his waist release him. Hands encircle his wrists and his own arms are pried from around the singer's neck. 2D stares at him, awkward smile straining and Murdoc feels sick.

"You should get some sleep, mate." the singer whispers, gently pushing Murdoc off of his lap. He clambers off of the bed clumsily, tripping through the mess of sheets and limbs and he grunts when he finds his freedom. His smile is a bit more genuine when he's standing away from the bassist, personal space once again acquired. "I had a lot of fun, Muds. We shoul' do this again sometime."

Murdoc rubs a hand over his face, tired, and all he really wants is to be left alone. He waves 2D off, not daring to look at his face

"Soon."

oOo


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

note: this takes place the morning after last chapter! it's the next day 8)

oOo

Every time Murdoc suffers from a hangover, he _swears_ to himself that he's never going to touch alcohol again. He's going to abstain from it, he's going to quit cold-turkey, he's going to get his life together.

Of course, that's a damn lie and there's _no way_ that he'd _ever _stay true to that promise.

Right now he's slouched in his bathroom, head making friends with the toilet bowl as his body purges the toxins he consumed the night before. He's absolutely miserable but he still craves a drink and that thought sends him back over the edge, body cramping up as he vomits. He feels the brush of a hand against his forehead, thin fingers combing through his damp hair and soft circular motions rubbing his back soothingly. But he's very much aware of the fact that they aren't really there.

Murdoc usually rides these episodes out alone. He _is _riding it out alone. But he knows that, with the way things are going right now, he's probably going to keel over if someone doesn't find him.

He struggles to his feet, flushes the toilet and rinses his mouth out with water. Everything is too bright and even though it's still pissing cold out his body feels much too hot and sickly to put anything more than what he has on now- a ripped up t-shirt and his jeans from the day before.

His hair is sweaty, his _skin _is sweaty and he feels disgusting. Granted, he never feels all that great and it usually doesn't bother him but right now he feels like a mangy _sweaty _animal. He stumbles back into his room, grabs a pair of sunglasses and places them on his face. They're cracked, one of the earstems is crooked but they get the job done just fine. He slips into his boots, shoves himself into a jacket and heads over to Kong with the hopes grabbing of a quick shower.

He doesn't pass or see anyone in the carpark or in the halls, and he slinks into the showers quietly.

The shower is quick, not very thorough but it's enough to wash the sweat off of his skin and out of his hair. He dries himself off briskly, trying not to topple over himself with the momentum and dresses in the clothes he arrived in. He puts his sunglasses back on, and they tilt a bit over his crooked nose. He slowly drags himself out of the bathroom in search of painkillers and maybe something to off himself with.

Or not. Whatever he finds first.

Finally reaching the kitchen, he digs around through cabinets and drawers and behind random _stuff_ until he finally finds a small bottle of off-brand aspirin. He places a generous amount of medicine into his open palm, filling a glass with water and downs them in one swallow. He sees something moving in the corner of his eye and when he turns to look he's met with Russell staring at him.

"I don't even wanna know why you look like that." the drummer sighs, shaking his head in what could be seen as pity. Or shame.

Murdoc looks down at himself. He thinks he looks normal enough.

"You sayin' that gives off the implication that you _do_ wanna know somethin_'_." he replies, his voice hoarse and almost broken sounding. He clears his throat but it doesn't sound any better. "Fuck."

"Overdid it, huh?" Russell asks smugly, sitting down at the counter. Leaning on his forearms, he asks, "What poor girl did you torture with your habits this time, huh?"

Murdoc sends Russell a nasty glare but the drummer can't see it through bassist's sunglasses. "I wasn't with any fuckin' _bird_ last night you dimwit."

Russell raises a brow.

"Oh? Well I knew that you were one t'get drunk alone on occasion but I din' think y'took it_ this_ far." he says with a laugh, grinning widely when Murdoc pulls a face. "You really _are _a lonely bastard, aren't you?"

"I wasn't _alone_!" Murdoc hisses, irritated beyond belief and trying in vain to redeem his high status. "After practice yesterday I decided to bestow Two-Dents the gift of my presence and we got shitfaced."

Russell looks amused.

"Someone's defensive."

"_Shut up_." Murdoc snarls, readying himself to throw something at the large man before he's interrupted.

"Stop." a small voice demands from below, startling the bassist out of his fit. Murdoc glances down to see Noodle standing at his feet, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Murdoc-san is..." she pauses, searching for the right word. The bassist doesn't have a good feeling about what she's going to say.

"Murdoc-san is irritate."

Russell chokes on his laughter, tears threatening to leak from his eyes and Murdoc frowns in offense. He doesn't even know what to say- nothing that comes to mind is an appropriate thing to say to a young child. He can still hear Russell's hysteric laughter. He can practically _feel_ it vibrating through his body.

"Why does everyone insist on attacking me?" he asks no one in particular, rubbing at his head painfully. Noodle ignores him and hops up beside Russell, whispering in his ear.

"Sure thing, baby girl." the drummer grins, standing up and heads to the refrigerator. He nudges Murdoc out of the way in order to reach it, looking almost apologetic. "Sorry Murdoc, s'Noodle's breakfast time."

The bassist recoils away from the larger man, brushing himself off. "Whatever. Just don't touch me again."

Not really wanting to deal with the nauseating "father-daughter" _familial display_, Murdoc leaves the kitchen and heads back to his Winnie with the goal of passing out. Maybe drink some more. His stomach churns at the idea but he reasons that when alcohol is actively entering his system he'll feel better. He nearly slams into the tall figure standing in front of him and he just about _shouts_ at it until he realizes that it's just 2D.

_That_ should've been a pretty good reason to follow up with his urge to yell but he can't find the will to do so. Not in the state he's in.

2D doesn't look _nearly_ as bad as Murdoc feels. He looks surprised, though.

"Muds?" he asks, looking down at the shorter man uncomfortably. His eyes widen a bit when he takes in Murdoc's appearance. "Woah, y'don't look so good."

His words are sympathetic and he leans down a bit to get a better look at the bassist, frowning.

Now he looks confused.

"...You're wearing sunglasses inside."

Murdoc feigns shock.

"No, really? I had no fucking idea. You're certainly a perceptive one, dent face." he drawls, tone dripping with sarcasm and he pushes past 2D in order to get to the carpark.

"...Are you okay?" the singer asks, turning on his heel.

"I'm not dying, if that's what you're askin'." the bassist replies moodily, almost pouting and that fact alone bothers him. "I'm just facin' the consequences of my actions."

"Your voice sounds awful." 2D notes, and Murdoc stiffens a bit.

"Like I haven't heard enough of _that_ to last me a fucking _lifetime_." he hisses, misunderstanding, pace quickening and it takes the singer by surprise.

"N-no, that's not what I meant!" 2D says quickly, easily catching up with Murdoc due his long legs and even longer strides. "M'sorry! It's just that... You just sound super... _scratchy_."

Murdoc's eyes narrow dangerously and he snarls. "I've been evacuating everything that has ever entered my body through my mouth all goddamn morning."

2D pulls a face but continues walking beside him. "Well... y'_did_ drink a lot last night."

Murdoc stops walking abruptly and whips his head around to stare at the singer.

"_Nooo_, really?" he drawls, letting his annoyance get the best of him. He laughs bitterly, a weird sort of rage pushing him forward and he leans in towards the singer. "Y'know, 'D, honestly, I thought that I was _pregnan_t. Morning sickness, yeah? I was afraid that I'd have to sign on for maternity leave. Wow, I'm really glad we got_that _cleared up."

Now 2D looks irritated. "I was just _sayin_', Muds. Y'don't gotta mean about it."

"_Y'don't gotta be _mean_ about it!_" Murdoc mocks in a horrible rendition of 2D's voice. The singer doesn't look all too flattered and he crosses his arms over his chest. "I don't know if you were made _aware _of this, dullard, so allow me to clear this up; _I'm not nice._"

He doesn't really know _why_ he's picking a fight with the taller man, he doesn't know _why _he wants to make him hurt, he just knows that he needs to get rid of this _frustration _he's feeling inside.

"I know y'aren't." 2D says simply, giving Murdoc pause. "That doesn't bother me much, y'know. But we're mates, yeah? I was just concerned."

All the anger and frustration drains from Murdoc's body in an instant and he's left feeling empty and hollow.

"...Y'don' gotta concern yourself, 'D." he sighs, surrendering to 2D's placating tone. "Just...leave me be for now, alrigh'? I feel like shit."

2D seems to catch on to his dismissive tone, for once being able to grasp social cues.

"Oh. Okay, then." he says softly, sending Murdoc another sympathetic look. "Um..well, I hope you feel better, Muds."

Murdoc feels his stomach churn, a bit more pleasantly this time. "Er..thanks, 2D."

The singer sends the bassist an awkward, friendly wave and walks back in the direction he came from.

He feels sick all over again.

oOo

His headache is gone, but he still feels achy. His nausea is gone, but he still feels ill. He doesn't have a fever, he doesn't have the cold sweats, but he still feels hot and upset.

He doesn't like this.

_He_ _doesn't like **her**_.

...What's her name...

Kira? _Kellie_?

Whatever. She's just some random _slag_ the idiot singer brought home, it isn't like her name will be worth remembering.

2D and his _lady friend_ have been wrapped around each other on the couch all afternoon, giggling and whispering in each other's ears and it's been driving Murdoc up the wall. He can't see them properly- they're too far away and out of hearing range- but he can still make out the low hums of 2D's voice and the breathy giggles of his partner.

The pencil in his hand snaps in his grip and he grinds his teeth in frustration. Russell, sat opposite him, gives him a look of surprise.

"...You feelin' alright, Murdoc?" he asks, his voice careful and measured as if he were anticipating a storm.

"No." Murdoc says bitterly, tearing his attention away from the pair on the couch. "You'd think they'd have the decency to take... _that_ somewhere else."

"_Decency_?" Russell snorts, incredulous. "You're one to talk! And since when d'_you_ care about what the kid does, anyway?"

After a brief pause, Russell offers Murdoc a smirk.

"You're jus' jealous."

Murdoc freezes, shoulders tensing tight as a dreaded sense of _horror _floods throughout his entire body. His eyes snap up to meet Russell's, a crazed _panicked _look in his expression, and slams his fist against the table.

"I am _not **jealous**_, _you absolute **arsemonger**_." he snarls, face utterly _red, _heart beating fast and hard in his chest. He's still gripping the broken pencil in his hand, its sharp splintered wood cutting deep into his palm.

Russell raises his hands in front of his chest, surprised by Murdoc's outburst. "Woah, Muds, calm down, I was jus'-"

"No, _you _calm down, you fucking _sea cow_!" the bassist snarls, leaning in towards the drummer threateningly, shoulders trembling. "I'm _not _jealous! I couldn't give two **_shits _**about the dullard, what is there to even be _jealous _about?" Russell tries to speak but Murdoc cuts him off. "_Absolutely nothing! _I feel _bad_ for the poor girl, _for the love of **Satan,**_ the lad's a waste of oxygen!"

The drummer's white eyes grow wide with shock and he looks vaguely uncomfortable. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, his thoughts almost visible in his expression as he tries to come up with a coherent sentence.

He tries again.

"Er... Muds, I meant jealous of him havin'_ a_ _girl_ _on his arm_." he quirks a brow, scratching at his wrist. "...Not.. not of the _girl_."

The bassist splutters, color draining from his face and he drops the broken pencil on the tabletop with a growl.

"_Shut the fuck up_." he snarls, face heating up again. "I knew that."

"..Sure..." Russell says uncertainly, more confused than anything. He looks like he wants to say more but he's cut off by the sound of a feminine laugh, and when Murdoc turns to see what's going on 2D and his lady friend are dashing down the hall.

In a fit of rage, Murdoc grabs something off of the table and throws it violently across the room, startling the larger man when it hits the wall.

"...Man, what the hell is _wrong_ with you?" Russell snaps, making a grab for Murdoc's shoulder. Murdoc jerks away from him, knocking his chair over onto the floor.

"Fuck off, Russ." he hisses, stomping off in the direction opposite of 2D's room. He can hear Russell shuffling in the kitchen, trying to reach him.

"Where the hell are you even _going_?" Russell calls after him, voice betraying his concern and worry. "Murdoc! We were doin' something _important_!"

oOo

The sounds of his heels clicking against cement flooring isn't nearly as comforting as he thought it would be.

Slumping against a wall, he sighs when unconsciousness finally finds him. Threading its fingers through his hair, lulling him into serendipity.

He doesn't question it.

oOo


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**note:** this takes place directly after last chapter! 8) SAME DAY

**warning:** recreational drug use aka smoking weed. the dankest

**1/4 EDIT: i took out the hallway bit bc it has no place here**

**Waking up in the hallway is never fun. Why would it be?**

oOo

It's late. He can tell because the loud, electrical hums of Kong have grown quiet and the distant moans in the landfill are getting progressively closer. Every shadow in sight has taken on a more sinister quality, turning ink black and stretching impossibly far against the pavement.

It had taken him longer than he'd ever care to admit to find his way back to the carpark, despite living there for well over a year. This fact alone should be enough to embarrass him, but he's too tired and grumpy to expend that kind of energy.

He safely assumes that he can make a break for his Winnebago without running into anyone. And, to be fair, he should be able to do that at this hour. Only a few more steps need to be taken, and then he's free to sleep to his heart's content.

However, his hopes are dashed the moment he reaches for the door handle.

"Muds!"

_Oh, fuck me._

"Hey! Hey, over here, Murdoc!"

Murdoc feels his shoulders tense up at the sound of 2D's voice, but he finds himself turning around anyway. 2D sends him one of his award winning smiles, waving at him frantically and bouncing on his heels. If Murdoc weren't so pissed off right now, he'd probably smile back.

"What d'you want?" he snaps, tensing even more when he notices the other man walking in his direction.

"I haven't seen you in a few hours." 2D says by way of explanation, pausing when he finally reaches Murdoc. "Where'd you go? I was lookin' all over for you!"

Murdoc, growing uncomfortable with the other's close proximity, backs away to provide some personal space. "The fuck do you care? Weren't you busy lofting about with that blonde strumpet, dent face?"

2D blinks, confused by the other's harsh tone. "...Yeah, but she's gone now."

Murdoc stares vacantly ahead, frowning.

"...Gone." he repeats slowly.

2D nods.

"Yeah, she left a few hours ago. Had stuff to do." he tilts his head to the side in thought. "Nice girl, she was."

Murdoc narrows his eyes sharply, snarling.

"Well that's bloody fantastic, mate. Good on you, now fuck off." He turns quickly and tries to pry open his door but before he can even attempt to do that there's a hand on his arm.

He can't bring himself to part from its grasp.

"Wait, Murdoc!" 2D says quickly, squeezing the bassist's arm just a bit tighter before letting go. "I kinda, sorta wanted to hang out with you, if that's alright?"

Murdoc looks over his shoulder, purses his lips in thought and sighs through his nose.

"Fine."

2D looks absolutely delighted and lets out a little cheer, nudging Murdoc into the Winnebago enthusiastically. Murdoc stumbles up the steps a bit, growling at 2D to knock it off and the moment he's inside he settles himself into his chair. 2D sits on an upside-down bucket, leaning forward on his knees in anticipation.

"So!" the says happily, staring at Murdoc with a manic grin. "What d'ya wanna do?"

"Don't ask me, dullard, you're the one who invited yourself in."

2D pouts, leaning back with a thoughtful expression. Then his face lights up, eyes gleaming.

"Well I mean, we can always smoke or somethin'." he suggests. He pulls out a small plastic baggie from the confines of his pants pocket, tossing it over to the bassist. "Just got it- I heard its supposed to be really good stuff."

Murdoc examines the bag critically and ponders for a moment. The pros to this setup are: smoking with 2D, watching 2D get high, and pushing 2D around without the singer really putting up a fight. The cons? He might lose himself and do something either really weird or really embarrassing.

It isn't really up for debate.

Deciding that the pros far outweighed the cons, Murdoc nods in affirmation and leads 2D to his bedroom. He pulls out all the necessary equipment and prepares the first hit, frowning in his concentration.

2D sits on his knees across from him, leaning forward eagerly and Murdoc feels himself start to perspire under his unyielding gaze.

"Stop starin' at me." he mumbles, lifting the bowl to his mouth. He lights the end, holds his breath and exhales a steady plume of smoke through his parted lips. He wordlessly hands the bowl to 2D, grimacing.

"I wasn't starin', I was observin'." 2D says with a laugh. "There's a difference."

He takes the bowl into his hands, lighting his own hit and grins as the smoke exits his mouth through the gap in his teeth. Murdoc frowns as the bowl is passed back to him.

"Well I ain't a fuckin' gorilla so _stop_."

2D snorts.

"Aren't you, though?"

Murdoc's mouth quirks a bit at the corners, but opts to ignore the question.

As time passes, Murdoc finds himself moving closer to the other as he talks of Earth, the stars, and what it truly means to be alive. 2D's voice carries, but it's never obtrusive- even in this quiet, darkened space. It's soft and warm, and before long Murdoc begins to feel the urge to lean his head against 2D's shoulder, because he's just that tired and _just _that lonely.

And in his current state of mind, he doesn't have a social-filter so he sort of just _does_ it. It gives the other pause, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"..What's up, Muds?"

Murdoc shrugs, closing his eyes tiredly.

"None of your damn business, that's what." he mumbles, wrapping himself around 2D's arm. He feels 2D struggle in his hold but he doesn't let go.

"Uh..._Muds_?" 2D asks, tugging his arm out from Murdoc's grasp. "What're you doin'?"

Murdoc shakes his head. "Nothin'."

"Nothin'?" 2D asks skeptically. "I dunno, Muds, it kinds seems like you're tryin' at _somethin'_."

Murdoc snorts and shoves the singer away.

"Yeah, obviously."

2D raises a brow. "Was...was that it?"

"Yep."

2D doesn't look convinced but he returns to his previous position, holding his breath in case Murdoc decided to ambush him.

The bassist scoots himself a bit closer to the singer despite 2D's obvious physical signs of discomfort. Knowing the kid, he'd probably tolerate it for the sake of 'getting closer' to his best friend.


	10. filler: Chapter 9 - Swan Scones

**Chapter 9 - Filler: Swan Scones**

**note**: i thought it was about time for some funny feel-good stuff 8)

did u get my joke? do you find me humorous?

oOo

Days at Kong pass as they always do; slow, meaningless, with absolutely no hope of ease or rest.

The usually dark living room is now filled with the harsh, bright-yellow glow of artificial lighting. Slow, almost deliberate sounding scratches can be heard from the other side of the grimy, busted window but they continue to go unnoticed

And Murdoc, abandoned by his band mates, can be found sulking childishly on the couch with his knees drawn up to his chest, and a ratty blanket strewn over his shoulders. He holds the television remote in his hands, never actually using it as he toys with the back cover, removing the batteries from their ports. They glide between his fingers, casings worn down by age and use, and when the initial amusement wears off he puts them back into their spots.

_He's all alone._

Sure, he could've just stayed holed up in his room and drunk himself into another stupor but doing that gets tiring after a while. He needed a change in scenery. Being alone in a decrepit, rotting building gives him the option to lounge about without being disturbed by the others.

Sinking deep into the moth-bitten couch, Murdoc turns the television on and mentally prepares himself for an afternoon of solitude and melancholy. He doesn't need to ask himself why he wasn't invited to go along with the others. He _knows_ why. He's made it _perfectly clear_ what he thinks of them and people in general and it doesn't surprise him in the least that they didn't want him around during their casual family outing.

Except...

Well.

He had thought that a certain _singer _would've had the decency to at least _knock on his door _and **_ask _**_him _if he wanted to go along. He would've said no, of course, but it's the principle of the thing. Before he can stew in his anger for too long he feels a pair of hands land on his shoulders from behind. Startled, he jumps in surprise and lets out a terrified yelp.

"_Muds!_" a voice shouts in his ear. "I have some _great_ news! Y'gonna _love_ it!"

_2D._

Murdoc is still trying to get his bearings straight as he clutches desperately at his chest.

"What the bloody hell was _that_ for, you dimwit?" he snarls, the hands on his shoulders releasing him without warning. There's rustling from behind the couch and suddenly 2D is sitting next to him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Sorry, I didn' mean t'scare you." 2D apologizes. The bassist isn't entirely sure if it's sincere or not.

"Shut up, I wasn't scared." Murdoc grumbles, scooting himself away from 2D a bit in order to acquire some personal space. 2D doesn't look convinced but he nods.

"Sure, Muds."

Murdoc sighs heavily through his nose, rubbing his temples in frustration. "What do you want? I thought you were out with the others."

2D grins brightly and nods again. "Yeah, but we just got back. We were gone for a while, I'm surprised y'hadn't noticed."

Murdoc narrows his eyes. "Why wouldn't I notice? I've been in here all alone since you up and _left_."

2D shrinks a bit at his harsh tone but continues to smile. "Anyways, I was looking all over for you! I have some good news."

Murdoc forgets his irritation and feels his heart constrict a bit. He smiles.

He coughs.

"What news?"

2D's smile widens. "_Well_," he says with barely contained enthusiasm, "D'ya remember a few days ago when we were drinkin' in your room? And we got to talkin' about swan scones?"

Murdoc pauses, drawing a blank, trying to stretch his memory far back enough to remember something that obscure.

"...I remember _you_ talkin' about them, sure." he says, slowly, brow raising when 2D's smile widens. "What the hell does that have to do with anyth-"

"I'm glad y'asked!" 2D interrupts, reaching into his pocket excitedly and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper.

Murdoc frowns, glancing at it skeptically.

"What in the name of Satan is _that_? Did you sneeze in it or something?"

2D pulls a face.

"What?! Ew, no! That's disgusting."

2D scowls at him for a few seconds before seeming to remember himself. His smile returns at full force and he beams, practically _shoving_ the wad of paper down Murdoc's throat in an effort to get the bassist to see it.

Murdoc is taken off guard by the sudden invasion of his personal space, spluttering when the paper presses against his mouth roughly.

"Stop jammin' it in my face or I'm gonna break your twiggy arms!" he snarls, trying his damnedest to sound intimidating and just barely succeeding. He smacks 2D's hands away from his face with a sharp glare. "I can't seem to recall a time in my life when I _wasn't_ lookin' at this soddin' piece of paper."

2D sighs in defeat, lowering his arms. "I want y'ta _read _it, Muds."

Murdoc rolls his eyes, taking the paper from the singer's hands without looking at it and sneers. "I can't fucking read it when you're trying to force down my gullet, stupid."

2D purses his lips, but says nothing.

Murdoc scans his eyes over the sheet of paper, reading the words but not understanding their significance.

"What is it?"

2D laughs. "It's the news I have, Muds! It's an ad for a bakery! I found it stapled to a cork-board earlier today when I was out walkin' through the shops with Noodle and Russ."

Murdoc nods slowly and reads over the paper again. "Why was it necessary for you to show me this?"

2D adjusts his position on the couch, sitting on his knees and he leans in towards the bassist. He points to a small block of text near the bottom of the paper. "Because it says _right here_ that they deliver! Everywhere_. And _they make custom stuff."

Murdoc's expression remains neutral. "...So..?"

2D sighs in frustration, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, his shoulders sagging dejectedly.

"I wanna order swan scones."

Murdoc is silenced, at a loss for words.

"...You ran around the entire building looking for me and tried forcing this down my throat... just to tell me _that_?" he asks in disbelief, shaking his head in awe. "You could've just ordered them yourself, idiot, you didn't have to tell me about it."

"_I know_, but I thought it'd be fun if we ordered some and hid them all around the building." 2D says with a mischievous grin. "We can put them in the bathrooms and stuff. It'll be funny."

After a few seconds of silent pondering, Murdoc's shocked expression melts into a full on _grin_.

"...Well _well_, aren't _you _a devious one." he laughs, nodding his head in shared enthusiasm. "Better yet, we order a bunch of them and put them in Russell's room. I'm sure the fat arse will enjoy the company."

2D snorts and covers his mouth to hide his laughter. Once he composes himself he sends a smile to Murdoc. "So you wanna do it?" he asks, black eyes shining brightly and _oh hell_ who is Murdoc to refuse?

This is going to be _hilarious_.

oOo

Oh _fuck_ they were wrong. So very, _very_ wrong.

This whole operation started out funny. Really, truly funny. They planned ahead, made their order and waited two whole days for the swan scones to arrive. (Eight batches of twelve. Ninety-six swan scones. Perfect, right?)

(Wrong.)

When they _did_ arrive, only Murdoc and 2D were home and so they were able to successfully transport them up into the building and scatter them about Russell's room. They had it set up _so perfectly, _too. There were some perched on his bed, some littered the floor, others on his shelves and in his shoes.

It was an innocent prank, really. It was supposed to be fucking _brilliant_ and they were all supposed to laugh about it afterwards.

What the two of them hadn't anticipated, however, was Russell returning home _late_ that evening, dead on his feet and stumbling into his room with his eyes closed. They didn't think he'd go straight for his bed. They didn't think he'd lay on the innocent swan scones, crushing them under his weight and making a huge mess.

They didn't think.

Now the two of them are stuck hiding in a broom closet on the other side of Kong because they're fucking _dead men_.

Murdoc, in short, feels embarrassed. He shouldn't be hiding from Russell but holy shit_. Lord, _the drummer is pissed. He's pissed and Murdoc doesn't want to have his nose broken again. He doesn't think he'll survive it this time.

He can barely see anything, he can barely see 2D but he can feel him smashed against his side.

"This was a fucking horrible idea." Murdoc hisses under his breath, wriggling feebly in an attempt to give himself some room. "And why the hell are you in here with me?"

2D lets out an irritated breath. "I don't feel safe anywhere else!" he whispers back, voice straining. "An' who the hell was it that suggested we put the scones in_Russell's _room? I may be a bit slow but I know for a fact that tha' it wasn't _me_."

"_Shut the fuck up_." Murdoc snarls, elbowing 2D in the ribs. "I can't stand being in this soddin' _shoebox _with you anymore, so you better get ready to start runnin' before Russ walks down here. I ain't above shovin' you in the way so I can get free."

The singer makes a distressed noise in the back of his throat.

"No!" he pleads, gripping at Murdoc's shirtsleeve in desperation. "I don't want Russ to hit me. One punch will send me to the hospital, I don't want to go into another coma!"

"Stop bein' such an infant, I _swear_ you're-" he's cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps outside their hiding space and he quickly shuts his mouth. 2D lets out a squeak, pressing his back against the wall in an attempt to make himself smaller. In his terrified state, Murdoc jumps forward and flings his arms around 2D's neck, bringing him down to his height. He ignores the confused look 2D sends his way, barely visible in the dank lighting.

The footsteps draw closer and both of them stop breathing.

"_Guys, I know you're around here somewhere!_" Russell snarls from the other side of the door. After a moment of silence he sighs irritably and Murdoc can hear his knuckles crack. "_Look, guys, I just want someone to clean that mess in my room. That's all. Doesn't have to be anything more than that._"

Murdoc and 2D remain silent. The bassist tightens his grip on the singer, pressing himself closer to the other man as Russell lets out an angry growl.

"_Y'all are just makin' it harder on yourselves."_

"We're gonna die." 2D whispers.

"Shut up!" Murdoc whispers back.

He hears an annoyed grunt from just outside their hiding space but it doesn't get any closer. Eventually, the heavy footsteps fade and disappear.

They're left in that spot for a few moments before 2D begins to squirm.

"Muds, he's gone- you can let go of me now."

oOo

The next day Murdoc and 2D hole themselves up in the bassist's Winnebago, still lying low from the drummer and his wrath.

"We probably should've cleaned up that mess when he was out looking for us." 2D says suddenly, sounding regretful. "That probably would've taken his anger down a peg."

Murdoc kicks 2D's leg sharply under the table, eliciting a pained cry from the other man.

"And risk him _finding _us? I don't think so, not on your life."

2D rubs at his bruised shin painfully, face scrunched in discomfort. "Well now we're hidin' from him every chance we get. We still gotta record songs n'stuff."

"That can wait until we don't have a metaphorical gun to our heads, sunbeam."

"Well what if he comes into the carpark and sees us in here?" 2D asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Murdoc smirks.

"We're sittin' in my Winnebago, mate. I can drive us away from the walking tantrum if need be."

2D nods slowly, accepting the answer and glances off to the side.

Murdoc frowns, leaning his head in his hand and stares at the singer through his fringe.

Well.

At least he has someone to talk to now.

oOo


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**note**: barely any time has passed between last chapter and this one 8)

(edited on August 3, 2015- i took something out bc it was obnoxious)

(edited again on December 6, 2015)

it became rly short i'm so sorry

oOo

Murdoc is, above all else, an extremely restless person with neurotic tendencies. His heels scuff and scrape against the dry pavement floor as he spins in circles outside 2D's door. His pacing only seems to get worse as time goes on, and he locks his fingers firmly in his hair when his anxiety begins to consume him.

He quickly grows frustrated with himself for having such fragile thoughts and desires, but it's nothing new to him. Not in any sense.

He continues pacing outside of 2D's bedroom door, trying to think of a good and very Murdoc-esque way of approaching him without coming off as desperate.

After a few seconds of silent brainstorming, and ultimately coming up with _nothing_, he tears his fingers from his hair and heaves an angry sigh. His eyes dart across the floor, searching for something, _anything_ to pick up and when he focuses on a loose piece of cement cracking out of place near his feet he narrows his eyes.

Murdoc smirks to himself and bends over, tugging the slab out of place. Hefting it into his arms, he counts down in his head from three to one, and slams it against 2D's door with all his might. He hears a feint rustling from the other side runs off in the opposite direction, skidding to a stop next to his car. When he's a good distance away he feigns nonchalance and watches 2D's door open, blue-headed mop of hair emerging from the doorway.

"Hey there, faceache!" Murdoc greets cheerfully, snickering at 2D's bleary and confused expression.

2D scratches his head and casts the bassist an irritated glare. "Did you throw jus' somethin' at my door?" he asks, exiting his room completely and crosses his arms over his chest. Murdoc snorts.

"Oh of _course_ not." he drawls, sticking his hands in his pockets. "As you can _plainly_ see, Stu-Pot, I'm over _here_. _Not_ there."

2D looks to the area next to him and spots the cement slab, cracked slightly and _very obviously _moved by a human.

"..Yeah...okay..." he laments, his tone sounding unconvinced. 2D seems to take note of how Murdoc is dressed: jacket, sweaters, hat... just _bundled_ up because he's always so fucking cold.

He _seems _to take note, but he _doesn't_ seem to register it. The bassist shifts under 2D's stare.

"Well," he says, clapping his hands together sharply, motioning for 2D to join him in his little spot, "now that you're awake, why don't you come on over and allow yourself to indulge in my presence?"

2D remains standing outside his door, looking even more confused. "..Huh..?"

Murdoc rolls his eyes and once again motions for 2D to come over to him. "Get over here." he commands, growing impatient. "Come on, start walkin', kid."

2D does as he's told, rubbing at his bare arms absentmindedly, his slipper-clad feed padding against the cement floor mutely. "What d'ya want, Muds?"

The bassist heaves a sigh. "Is it really _that_ hard to believe that I, _Murdoc Niccals_, want to spend some time with my _dearest_ and _closest _friend, _Stuart Pot_?" he asks, his voice pitched up a bit in order to sound heartbroken, placing his hands over his chest. "That's _you,_ by the way. I've gotta say, 2D, you cut _real_ deep."

2D starts to smile a bit despite the annoyance in his eyes. "Well, it's late and I was sleepin'. Can't this wait 'til tomorrow?"

"It'll be tomorrow in a few hours, 'D." Murdoc says, disregarding the fair point the singer makes. He motions for 2D to follow him to the farther side of carpark. "Why wait?"

2D pouts slightly, lowering his head and he drags his feet as he walks. "If it were _me_ wakin' you up in the middle of the night you'd beat the shit out of me without askin' any questions."

"Very true." Murdoc agrees, a wide grin on his face. "But that's not the case, now, is it?"

2D doesn't say anything.

Seeing as they weren't far away from the vehicles to begin with, the two of them approach the Geep and Murdoc makes to sit in the driver's seat.

The singer pauses, raising a brow.

"...Wait, are we goin' somewhere?" he asks, hesitantly. He looks down at himself and pulls at his tshirt. "I'm still in my night clothes."

Murdoc gives him an expression that screams _Are You Fucking Shitting Me_ and rolls his eyes. "Yes, we are, so get in." he replies, already starting the car. "And who the fuck cares? S'not like we'll be out walkin' around."

2D looks unsure, but he clambers into the car anyway and straps himself in.

"Where are we goin'?"

oOo

Murdoc's been driving for a good couple of hours now and the sun is just _barely _peeking out through the miserably gray sky. 2D had fallen asleep within the first half hour of the drive and Murdoc still hasn't woken him up, too entranced by how unbelievably _innocent_ the singer looks in his sleep.

Murdoc decides that he'll keep going straight until the singer wakes up _himself_, and after that, he'll probably just keep driving.

He hears a snuffle beside him, fabric shifting slightly and a muffled yawn. Murdoc glances at 2D through the corner of his eye, watching the singer blink the sleep away and his black eyes turn comically wide.

"...Ah." 2D says, his voice holding a strange confused disappointment. "How long have we been out here?" he asks, looking over the side of the car and watches the trees pass them by in a blur of white and green.

"About three hours." Murdoc replies offhandedly, shrugging as if that were a reasonable amount of time to be driving in the middle of nowhere. "Give or take."

2D looks dumbstruck, mouth agape and he blinks.

"...Three _hours_?" he asks, voice raising in volume. "We've been out here in the freezing cold, driving in the _country _for _three hours_?"

Murdoc lets out a bark of laughter. "Hey, don't have a tizzy, sunbeam. I put a blanket on you." he says, gesturing to the pile of cloth at 2D's feet. He pauses. "Well, I _did_. You threw it off yourself in your sleep."

2D rolls his eyes and pulls the blanket back over his lap. It's one of the moth-eaten ones that Murdoc makes a habit of wrapping himself in when he's watching television in the living room.

"Thanks." he mutters, not really sounding all that thankful but Murdoc brushes it off. "What exactly are we doin' out here, anyway?"

"Nothing."

2D is silent for a moment, his face strangely neutral. "..._Nothing_." he repeats.

"That's what I said, ain't it?" Murdoc asks, snickering. "Look, 'D, don't get all worked up over it. I know that brain of yours is having a bit of a hard time processing this, but just slow down for a sec and _brrreathe_."

The mockingly-placating tone of Murdoc's voice only seems to annoy the singer further.

"Muds, y'_know_ that I _love _hangin' out with you," he says slowly, "But I'm not in regular day clothes, an-"

"I already said you don't gotta worry about that_._" Murdoc interrupts, his tone harsh in order to conceal the slight tremble of his lips, and he adjusts his hat a bit to cover his burning ears. "I just, y'know, wanted to drive around with you for a while. Shoot the breeze in a different locale, yeah? No big deal."

"Oh." the singer says after a tense moment of silence. "...But why so early?"

Murdoc hisses through his teeth, mouth set into an angry frown.

"I didn't want the others taggin along, alright?"

2D looks surprised, but soon after the surprise fades and a bright friendly smile takes over. "Well, you could'a just _said _so, Muds." He says, tone sweet and understanding.

Murdoc grinds his teeth, stomach squirming at 2D's soft tone and he feels his face burn hotter.

"Shut up."

oOo

They arrive back at Kong at 6 on the dot. The faint sounds of groaning in the distance echoes throughout the spacious lot, which only serves to add to the already unsettling atmosphere.

Murdoc parks the car in its usual spot and turns off the engine; 2D is already in the midst of unfastening himself, pallor turning a sickly shade of green. He climbs out of the vehicle and gasps for air, clutching the car door as if it were a lifeline.

Murdoc's natural high begins to die down and he starts to crave something more artificial- injected or ingested, he doesn't care. He's still sitting in the drivers seat when a shadow looms over him.

"_What_?" he grouses, already on the verge of returning to his usual salty demeanor. 2D looks taken aback but he quickly recovers.

"Oh! Well. I jus'. I wanted to say thanks." he says uncertainly, rocking back on his heels. "It was fun, y'know. Bein' with you. Heh, uh, sorry for bein' such a tosser about it. Earlier, I mean."

"Whatever, don' let it go t'your head. Satan knows you have the room for it."

2D glares at him irritably, digging his heels into the cement. The tension rises and Murdoc begins to grow uncomfortable under 2D's stare.

"...I'll see y'later, Muds." he says finally, offering small wave in farewell. Murdoc waves back and watches as the other ducks back into his room, closing the door behind him.

After a moment of stiff silence he sighs and rests his forehead against the steering wheel.

The humming never stops.

oOo

A/N: rly short. lmaooooooooooooooo


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**note: **this takes place maybe a few days after last chapter? 8O

oOo

He has a headache.A bad one.

It started off as a dull throb and now it's an insistent _pang_ that keeps shooting his brain every minute or so. Silence, peace, and a pang.

Sure, it's nice sitting in the living room with 2D, alone, but after a while the novelty wears off and he starts to become more self-aware.

He's aware of the singer's breathing, his movements, and since he hasn't slept with anyone in a _really long time_ he's also sexually frustrated. Ignoring the feeling only makes it come back with a vengeance and that results in him needing to scoot away from the singer. He pulls a leg up to hide the fact that he's sporting a semi.

Russell and Noodle are, at this very moment, out grocery shopping. And right now Murdoc wishes, more than anything, that he could go back in time and force 2D to go along with the others so he could be alone with his thoughts.

Of course, that isn't to say that the singer's company isn't welcome. It's not that at all. It's just that sitting _this _close to the singer for _this_ long has started to affect him and 2D isn't helping by being his usual obnoxious self.

Between his fingers an elastic stretches, plucking and twining to the point of breaking.

_Pluck_, laugh, _pluck pluck_, more laughter, _more plucking_ and Murdoc's had enough of it.

He snatches the rubber band out of 2D's hands, snaps it and throws it to the floor.

_"_You better stop dicking around before I shove my shoe down your throat."He hisses, punching the other's shoulder sharply in frustration

2D lets out a pained cry and rubs his shoulder, rubber band forgotten for the time being.

"That _hurt_, Murdoc!" he whines, moving away from the other man defensively. "Y'didn't even _ask_ me to stop doin' it! I would've stopped if you told me to."

"I shouldn't _have_ to say anything." Murdoc snaps, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. "Learn to read the damn mood, arsehole."

The annoyance that Murdoc feels is enough to send his semi back to the fiery depths of hell. 2D pouts, still rubbing his sore shoulder. The silence is thick, the tension is thicker and with a sigh the singer begins to rise.

"Where are you goin'?" Murdoc asks, scrambling towards the other man frantically, pretending that his voice isn't shaking, desperate or fearful. 2D pauses in his movement and glances at Murdoc curiously.

"...I'm just gettin' comfortable, Muds." he says softly, lowering himself back onto the couch with his eyes trained on Murdoc's. "I'm not leavin'."

The bassist freezes as embarrassment washes throughout his insides.

"Whatever, I don't care." he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. He taps the heel of his boot against the floor, ignoring 2D's disbelieving stare.

It's grows quiet.

"...I think you _do_." 2D says suddenly, breaking the silence. Murdoc jerks his head quickly to the side and stares at him in surprise, not registering the other's joking tone. A lump form in his throat and he swallows thickly, his surprise quickly turning into irritation.

"No I fucking _don't_." he snaps, shoving the singer roughly. 2D yelps and falls over, looking beyond irked and he surprises Murdoc by shoving him back with equal force. The bassist falls back a bit, not much but just enough for them both to realize what just happened.

They stare at each other, 2D's eyes growing wide, Murdoc's starting to narrow and it becomes incredibly tense.

2D splutters, desperately trying to speak.

"M-Muds, I'm s-"

Murdoc growls, cutting him off.

"You're gonna fuckin' wish you_ had_ left, _dick_." he snarls, lunging at the taller man angrily. 2D leaps off of the couch and scrambles away, darting out of the room with a frightened squeak. Murdoc snarls and jumps off of the couch, giving him chase, and he struggles to keep up with him because his legs aren't nearly as long as 2D's. He pumps his arms, urging his legs to go faster, his anger fueling him and pushing him forward.

"I'm sorry, M-Murdoc!" 2D yells over his shoulder, voice pitched up in fear and anxiety, but Murdoc doesn't reply. This only makes 2D yell more, stumbling over his feet a few times and this act of clumsiness allows Murdoc to finally catch up.

2D's tackled to the floor, yelping as he lands on his side. They roll around a bit, swatting at each other desperately, kicking the air and their legs get tangled along the way.

"Don't fuckin' shove me, you _shit_." Murdoc snaps, pushing 2D's shoulders roughly to the floor, and for a while it looks like he has the upper hand. That's before he's pushed onto his back forcefully, unable to move as 2D lands on top of him. He grunts in surprise.

The singer leans over him, fear and anger both present in his black eyes and suddenly Murdoc realizes just how _compromising _their current position is.

Murdoc, splayed on the floor. 2D, settled between his spread legs with his hands pinning him down. He's not applying much force but Murdoc still freezes, stunned into silence_._ It's not exactly _missionary position_, but it's pretty damn close and it very much resembles the dreams that he's been having.

Sure, he could shove 2D off of himself in theory. He could punch him in the stomach and run off, too, but that'd only raise questions. Lost in thought, he continues to stare up at 2D, his anger forgotten as a rush of _want _flows through him.

And then he feels something inside his chest stir.

"Get _off _of me!" he hisses, desperate, struggling beneath 2D and _okay _getting free isn't as easy as he thought it would be because the singer is a lot heavier than he looks.

2D, frightened, finally lets go as Murdoc scrambles away.

"Sorry, Muds." 2D says sheepishly, scratching his wrist. "...For, pushing you, and for..uh...making you mad."

Murdoc sighs, brushing his hair out of his face with shaky fingers. He feels flustered and his headache is worse.

oOo

A few hours later doesn't prove to be much better, but it's for a very different reason.

All four band members are currently stationed in the recording studio, huddled in the small recording booth and running through some songs that need work. Overall, it's going pretty okay. It's going better than the last practice. It's going _smoother_ than the last practice, but it isn't quite uniform.

The bassist stops strumming and the singer stops singing immediately after, noticing the change. Soon it's quiet, and there's an angry sigh coming from the drummer and a confused stare from the guitarist.

"Okay, what the hell is wrong _now_?" Russell groans in exasperation, running a hand down his face in agony when the music stops. _Again. _His other arm hangs limply at his side and he casts a disgruntled glare in Murdoc's direction. "This is the third damn time you've stopped the set."

Murdoc sneers at the other man, cocking his hip to the side. "Well we ain't gonna keep practicing our shitty parts over an' over. We need t'get them sounding right. No use in playing the songs repeatedly if they don't sound good."

Russell lets out an irritated huff of air and he pinches the bridge of his nose. "_That's the whole purpose behind practicing_, you dumb shit."

Murdoc grinds his teeth at the tactless name, forcing down the violent urge to throw something blunt at the drummer's face. He takes a deep breath and gives Russell a shit-eating grin, mismatched eyes gleaming.

"Careful, _careful_, Russ." he taunts, wagging a finger in the drummer's direction. "Remember, sweet _precious _little Noodle-girl is in the room! Don't want her _repeating_ any _bad words_, yeah?"

He gestures to the small girl, who looks a bit confused, smiling and waving when her name is called. Russell's eyes snap open and he tosses his drumsticks into his duffel bag in a fit of anger. Murdoc shrinks back a bit at the sudden movement, trying his best to stand his ground but he can feel the blood drain from his face.

"Shove it." the drummer hisses, clenching his fists and he cracks his knuckles threateningly. He's successful in eliciting a disgusted shudder from the smaller man and it's almost enough to make him smile.

But he pauses, remembering himself and he lowers his fists. He gets to his feet and walks towards Noodle tentatively, kneeling down before her with a gentle smile.

"C'mon, baby girl." he croons, taking her tiny hand in his own. "Practice is done for today."

She stares up at him for a moment, a small frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"...Russell-sama?" she asks softly, tilting her head in confusion. She places her hand on the large man's forearm in concern. "You...okay? You're.. angry?"

Murdoc rolls his eyes.

The drummer shakes his head, smiling lovingly at the small girl.

"I'm okay, doll." he says softly, patting her head with his free hand. He sends an irritated glare at the bassist once more, and his eyes drift over to the singer. "Hey, 'D. Y'comin' with us?"

2D snaps his attention to Russell and glances between him and Murdoc. The bassist sends him a nasty glare and he jumps.

"Uh...nah, I'm gonna stay here for a bit."

Russell nods, straightens his back, grabs his stuff and moves towards the exit with Noodle clutching his hand.

"Bye-bye, Toochie!" Noodle calls over her shoulder, waving her arm wildly even as she disappears out of sight.

She doesn't say anything to Murdoc.

The small room becomes quiet, and tension starts to form in the bassist's shoulders as the silence stretches on.

2D coughs once, scratching his nose. "What was so bad about practice t'day, Muds?" he asked, genuine confusion lacing his tone. "I thought we sounded pretty good."

Murdoc sighs, raking a hand through his hair urgently. "'D, mate, '_pretty good'_ is what killed all of my old bands. We need to sound fuckin _ace_ or we ain't goin' anywhere." He explains this as if he were speaking to a child, resentment in his tone. He sets his bass on the floor and rubs his eyes tiredly. The singer twiddles his thumbs, moving to pack up his keyboard.

"Yeah, I know."

Murdoc nods, tapping the heel of his boot against the floor. "Yeah."

2D returns to his belongings, humming softly to himself as he pack away his equipment. Murdoc continues to stare at him, unable to take his eyes off the other even as his brain screams at him to look away. His eyes gaze over the singer's profile curiously and he side-steps to get a better look at his face.

And his lips.

His eyes travel down the length of 2D's body and his gaze lands on his crotch, the memory of earlier's tussle invading his mind. He snaps his eyes away, digging his heels into the floor. He bites his lip sharply in mortification, drawing a bit of blood with the pressure and he hisses in pain.

The humming immediately stops and there are footsteps drawing close to him. Gentle hands land on his shoulders, shocking him and he stares into terrified black eyes.

"Oh _God_, Muds! You're bleedin'!" 2D cries out, moving his hands from the bassist's shoulders to his face and he leans in close to get a good look at his mouth.

Murdoc's eyes widen and he roughly shoves the singer away, heart skipping a beat.

"_Don't touch me_." he snarls, ignoring the hurt in 2D's expression. "I bit my lip, there's no reason to bitch about it."

"I wasn't bitchin'!"

"Yes you _were_."

2D glares at him, brows furrowed and he sighs in aggravation. He shuffles over to his keyboard case and grabs a clean tissue, handing it to Murdoc in offering.

"Press this to your mouth."

The bassist let's go of his annoyance and turns to sarcasm. "Honestly, I thought about eating it before you said anything." he drawls, but does as he's told.

2D let's out a short laugh, eyes smiling. "So you're a goat, then?'

Murdoc snorts at the strange comparison, making a spluttering noise against the tissue. "I'm pretty damn sure that goats don't eat tissues." His words come out sounding muffled due to the pressure against his mouth.

2D laughs and shrugs. "Makes more sense than a person eatin' them, I guess." he says.

Then he pauses.

"...Why _did_ you bite your lip so hard, anyway?"

Murdoc stares into 2D's eyes, face a neutral-mask as he tries to think of something to say.

"My teeth are sharp."

It's not exactly a lie.

"Why do you carry tissues with you?" he asks in return, trying his best to position himself casually but it's hard to do so with one arm already busy pressing something against his face.

"Why wouldn't I?" 2D shoots back, a grin on his face. Murdoc begins to smile and tries to hide it.

"..._Touché_."

oOo

(the next day)

He doesn't know why he feels so upset, he just knows that he needs to be drunk right now_._

The situation is this: _the others are gone. _And it bothers him.

They're out having fun, they're out doing their own thing _again _and he wasn't invited along _again _because he's too much of a menace.

He thought that 2D wanted him to be around. They're friends, right? Or something like that. But just like before, he left with the others and Murdoc was left alone.

He feels like shit, he's angry and hurt and he wants to forget these awful feelings.

Lying on his bed, neck propped up on a pillow, his music blasts around his room and throughout the carpark.

And he drinks.

He's well on his way to being totally hammered, flat-out _smashed_ and he's losing all sense of time.

_How long have they been gone for?_

_How many drinks did he have?_

He doesn't know.

His mouth is bruised and busted from the day before. The alcohol flowing past his lips stings his cuts and he hisses at the sensation.

He drinks to ease stress, he drinks to forget. The more he drinks, the more _blue_ he sees. The more _blue_ he sees the more he hears a voice. A cockney voice, with a thick accent and warbled words. The voice is growing closer, just outside his room. Nothing is clear but he can hear the _tone _and when someone appears by his bedside he has no idea if they're real or not.

"Murdoc?" they ask, and he registers them as 2D. When Murdoc doesn't answer, 2D sighs. "We're back."

The bassist _still _doesn't answer, and he rolls over and swings his legs over the side of his bed. He moves to stand up and sways a bit, trying to get his bearings straight and he's gripping the bottle as if it were a lifeline.

Maybe it is.

"What'dya want?" he asks, walking around 2D. He grabs a can of beer, glaring up at the other man. "I'm a li'l _busy_ at the moment."

2D crosses his arms and makes a face. "We jus' got home, mate." he sighs in frustration, squinting at the bassist. "And your music is really loud."

Murdoc cracks open his drink and takes a swig, sighing loudly and he gives 2D an indifferent stare. "Is it, now?" he asks, staggering towards the singer clumsily. He leans against 2D's side, staring up at him with unfocused eyes.

The singer's expression turns sour and tries stepping away without knocking the other over. "Yeah, it is." he says stiffly, a deep frown pulling on his mouth.

Murdoc shakes his head slowly and manually turns the music off, surprising 2D. He grins up at the singer, licking his teeth and he takes another sip off his beer. He closes his eyes and feels a warm sense of contentment wash over him. A moment of silence passes before he feels 2D shift and step away.

"...I guess I'll be off, then." 2D says quietly, rubbing the back of his neck in unease and he goes to leave the room.

"Why the rush?" the bassist asks quickly, rushing around the other and he forces his beer into the singer's hands. "Count y'self _lucky_, mate, I jus' decided t'let you hang with me."

2D shakes his head, a bit regretfully, and hands the beer back to Murdoc. "I can't, Muds. I've got stuff t'do."

Murdoc feels his stomach drop and stares up at him, his expression raw and crestfallen. "Wha' _sorta_ stuff?" he asks slowly, grabbing hold of 2D's arm. "Wha's so important that y'gotta _leave_? Hm?"

2D looks put off by Murdoc's clinginess, shifting his weight from foot to foot with a groan. Making an exasperated sound in the back of his throat, he gently pushes Murdoc away, frowning.

"Just _stuff_, Muds."

The bassist crushes his beer-can his his fist and hurls it at the wall, feeling hurt and irate.

"Well _go on_, then." he snarls, backing off and gestures to the exit. He feels a rush of anger go through him and he grows more animated. "Jus' fuckin' _go_, 'D. If you have better things t'do, then _leave_."

2D doesn't move, he only stares with his mouth open in shock.

"..Are you okay, Muds?" he asks, his uncomfortable expression taking a backseat to his worried one. Murdoc's chest feels heavy and he squeezes his eyes shut, balling his hands into tight fists.

"Oh _yeah _'m just fuckin' _peachy_." he hisses, stomping past the singer and moving towards the door. He hears footsteps following him and he stops. "_Don't follow me_."

2D gives him a nervous look, scratching his cheek.

"It's _your_ Winnie, Muds." he says, moving slowly towards the door. "I'm not gonna stay in here alone while you leave."

"I ain't th'one who's _leavin_'." Murdoc snarls, whipping his head around to face the singer fully. 2D immediately backs off, shrinking away from the harsh tone. "_You _are."

The singer pauses, tilting his head at the statement. "What are you on about?" he asks hesitantly. "I was just gonna go work on some music stuff, I'm not leavin' the band or anythin'."

Murdoc doesn't want to speak, but his drunken state forces him to blurt out what he's trying to hold back.

"You're leavin' _me_, you fuckin' twerp." he snarls, reaching up and grabbing the singer's face roughly with his hands. He stares _hard _into his eyes through the haze of alcohol, struggling to keep his eyes from drifting. "You keep _leavin'_ me."

2D's eyes grow wide and he doesn't say anything, frozen to his spot. Murdoc continues to stare into his eyes, his grip on the singer's face loosening considerably.

His hands turn gentle and his rage dissipates. His expression turns tender and he rakes a hand through 2D's hair softly, something in his chest swelling and he feels light headed.

The singer remains stock-still, shock evident in his expression and frame.

"What're you _doin_', Muds?" he asks irritably, his tone suspicious as his eyes dart around the bassist's face.

"Nothin'." Murdoc replies softly, his voice sounding far away as a gentle smile places itself on his sore lips. He removes his hands from the singer's face and hair and gently places them on his shoulders.

"...You keep sayin' that." 2D remarks, still looking uncomfortable with the intimate touches Murdoc is bestowing upon him. "Y'keep gettin' drunk and y'keep doin' weird stuff."

Even through his haze Murdoc seems to realize just how _weird_ he's being and quickly lowers his arms, stepping away completely and he gives 2D space. The singer looks immensely relieved and he sighs, rubbing his cheeks absentmindedly.

"Look, Muds, I'll see you tomorrow." he says softly, offering a small smile. "I promise that we can hang then, if that's what you want."

The bassist's heart skips a beat and his stomach flutters, drunken nausea fading as a new sense takes over.

oOo


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**note:** they goin' on a trip in their favorite rocket ship

[insert spongebob narrator here] the next day

oOo

It's high-noon, and the clouds are thick and black. Everything around them looks dismal and dreary- it almost feels like they're sitting through something otherworldly as they watch their murky white surroundings fade into something considerably darker.

Looking down at the mangled train tracks before them, perched on a crumbled heap of rubble, Murdoc feels content. He wiggles his toes in his boots, wraps himself tighter in his coat and rubs his glove-clad hands together to keep warm. 2D, sitting beside him, merely puffs on a cigarette with a moth-eaten blanket strewn across his lap.

"I like watchin' the animals poke around down there." 2D says, breaking the silence as he passes his cigarette to Murdoc. The bassist carefully takes the cigarette into a gloved-hand and puffs, handing it back to 2D shortly after. "There are these weird dog-like things that pop out of the shrubs sometimes. I mean, I dunno what they are. Maybe they're just stray cats."

_Dog-like things...?_ the bassists asks himself, peering over at said shrubs to see if he could spot anything.

"What do they do?" Murdoc finds himself asking, genuinely curious.

2D glances over at him, shrugging. "Sniff around, eat stuff. Y'know how animals are."

Murdoc nods minutely, the back of his hair brushing his exposed neck. His ass feels cold, sitting on the freezing cement debris and a shiver wracks his frame. 2D seems to take notice and he removes the blanket off of his lap, draping it over the bassist's shoulders.

"Better?"

"...I was fine before, dullard." Murdoc mutters, snuggling into the blanket despite himself.

"But now you're better." 2D teases, gently elbowing Murdoc's side. The bassists mutters unintelligibly and bites his inner cheek to keep himself from saying something ill-mannered.

"Sure, whatever." he huffs, pulling the blanket higher over his shoulders to cover his ears. "I still don't get why you're not fucking cold."

"It's just you, Muds." 2D replies, amused. "You're weird."

"Don't tell me what I am, dullard." Murdoc snaps, jutting his arm out and accidentally knocking the cigarette out of 2D's hand. He snorts, laughing at the singer's heartbroken expression.

"_Oh my_, did_ I _do that?"

"Hey!" 2D cries, looking utterly horrified. "That was rude."

Murdoc is about to retort but he's cut off by a violent shiver traveling up his spine. The cold wind blows against his face and he turns away in an attempt to avoid it but it doesn't alleviate the stinging. He hears 2D shift beside him and he glances up.

"Y'okay?" the singer asks gently, looking down at Murdoc in concern. "We can leave if y'want."

Before Murdoc can say anything 2D is on his feet, holding out a slender hand in offering. The bassist stares at it for a second before he grabs hold of it and is hefted to his feet. He holds onto the other's hand just a moment too long and 2D laughs awkwardly.

"Y'can let go now."

Murdoc immediately drops the hand as if it burned him through his glove and stomps towards the car.

"_Piss off_, don't flatter yourself."

He hears 2D following closely from behind.

"I wasn't sayin' anything, Muds." the singer says softly, getting into the passenger side of the car.

Murdoc ignores his burning ears and sits himself in the driver's seat, starting the car.

"Fuck you."

oOo

((later))

They're sitting in a small roadside diner for the time being, lost in the nasty monochrome environment. Of course, Murdoc won't admit to that.

They sit across from each other in a corner booth, 2D sifting through a dinner menu and Murdoc staring at 2D. A shadow looms over their table and they both glance up.

"What can I get for you two?" asks a perky young waitress, bubblegum-pink hair tied back into a loose bun, and a striped smock covering her pale yellow dress. Murdoc notices 2D staring at her chest and he kicks him sharply under the table.

"_Ouch-_!"

"-The kid will have one of those _grilled-cheese__s__,_ right here." Murdoc says suavely, pointing to what 2D had been looking at on the menu. He pauses, looking over the drinks and suppresses a groan.

"And two waters."

"Oh _come on_, Muds!"

The waitress scribbles down the short order on her pad of paper and smiles. "Anything else?"

"No, that'll be fine, love." the bassist drawls, winking up at her. She nods, flustered, her sweet smile ever-present and heads towards the kitchen, leaving the two men to their devices.

"Why did you kick me?" 2D asks, pouting. "That hurt."

"I don't need you attatchin' yourself to some _scrubber_ right now, alright? Especially not in the middle of fuckin' nowhere." Murdoc grouses, frowning as his fingers tap against the tabletop. "So don't you start plannin' on pickin' up any birds when you're out with me, because I'm not driving them back to Kong and I sure as hell ain't payin' their cab fare."

"Why not?" 2D asks, crossing his arms over his chest. "I drive you and _your_ lady friends around all the time!"

Murdoc growls in his throat, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"You haven' done that in a _long damn time_, 'D." he hisses. "And I don't give a shit about what you do, I'm talking about _me_. I don't want to have to listen to you gettin' off with some slag in the backseat."

His voice betrays more venom and desperation than he had intended.

2D looks like he wants to argue but before he can speak a plate is set in front of him, distracting him. Murdoc glances up to see the pink-haired waitress, her small feminine hands placing two glasses of water in front of them delicately.

"Here you are!" she chirps, sending a polite smile to 2D. "Enjoy- let me know if you need anything!"

2D nods distractedly, shoving food in his mouth and she walks off.

Murdoc takes a sip of his water, face scrunching in disgust at the bland taste. He could've ordered alcohol. He _would've_ ordered alcohol, _just a beer_, but Satan only knows what sort of shit would go down if he allowed himself to drink near the singer so soon after last night.

Again, he can't quite remember what happened but he knows it must've been embarrassing.

So he's drinking water. It's _horrid_, but the sight of the singer happily consuming his food makes his disgust take the highroad and he smiles with the glass raised to his mouth.

oOo

They drive down twisty roads and open fields, the sound of cold wind piercing Murdoc's eardrums and making his skin sore.

It goes on like this for a half hour.

"Y'sure we aren't lost, Murdoc?" 2D asks, looking down at the road flying fast underneath them. "B'cause if we are, we can probably find someone an' ask for directions."

"We aren't lost!" the bassist hisses, clenching his fists around the steering wheel. "And I can't fuckin' believe that _you _don't know the bloody way back, since _you're _the one who goes to the tracks all the damn time to watch unidentifiable animals _emerge from shrubbery_!"

"You drove past the turn I pointed out to you before the diner!" 2D snaps in turn. "_You're_ the one who didn't listen."

"Y'know what?_ Forget it_! It doesn't even matter who's to blame at this point because it's too damn late to do anything about it now."

Right as he says this, he sees an all-too-familiar town reveal itself just beyond the horizon. He makes a sudden U-turn, eliciting a startled yelp from the singer as he speeds awayfrom unraveling repressed memories.

"Augh, _Murdoc_!" 2D chokes out, struggling to get into a comfortable position. "What the hell was that for? Where are we going?"

Murdoc frowns, sweat beading on his face in spite of the cold.

He remains silent.

oOo

Daylight is gone, and it has been for a while. Now it's evening and the two are still out, backtracking and failing and _cursing every possible deity_ _out there_ because they're still lost.

"Murdoc, are we gonna die out here?" 2D asks, his voice anxious as he wraps his long arms around his legs.

"No, we _aren't_ gonna die out here, you ninny." Murdoc mutters, grinding his teeth together to ward off his shivering. 2D lets out an exasperated sigh, and Murdoc sees him run his fingers through his hair impatiently.

"But it's _freezing_!"

Murdoc, in spite of the situation, allows himself to smirk. "Oh, so _now_ you think it's cold, eh?"

2D growls and rubs his legs. "It's cold when _night_ falls!"

"Don't be so fuckin' dramatic, 'D." Murdoc snaps, chewing on his sore lip enough that he can taste blood. He goes silent and 2D seems to sense it.

"...You bit your lip again, didn' you?" the singer asks, his tone conveying unyielding knowledge_. _On this particular matter, that is.

"...No." Murdoc replies, _his_ tone conveying unyielding falsities. Blood is already starting to drip down his chin.

2D stifles a sigh. "Muds, pull over."

Murdoc sniffs, appalled. "Stu, it's too fucking dark to pull over."

"Murdoc, y'got blood on your face!" 2D hisses, unknowingly startling the bassist. "Pull over!"

"Okay, _okay_!_ Satan,_ Dullard, keep your pants on." he gripes, pulling over on the side of the road and parks the car. He turns towards the singer expectantly. "Give me a tissue, then, before it dries."

"Muds, y'can't even _see_ it. It's gonna smear." the singer reasons, shaking his head and extracts a small individual packet of tissues from his pocket. He pulls out a fresh tissue and folds it. "An' you're wearing gloves. Jus' lean in here for a sec."

Murdoc freezes and leans away. "No, I can do it myself!" he snarls, grabbing at the tissue in annoyance. "_Give it to me_."

Without speaking, 2D leans over and presses the tissue to Murdoc's lip, dabbing up the blood there and wipes his chin. He presses it to his lip again. "Hold it here."

Murdoc's face is positively flushed and he raises a shaky hand to his mouth, holding the tissue to his lip.

When he doesn't answer, 2D shifts uncomfortably. "You alright?"

"M'fine." the bassist mutters, sinking into his seat and scrubs at his lip with the tissue until the blood stops. He glances at the dashboard's clock and groans. 10:48 pm. Still no way home in sight, it's 24 degrees fahrenheit and getting colder by the minute.

"Fuck."

"What?"

Murdoc pulls the tissue away from his mouth and throws it over his shoulder into the back seat. "It's late. And it's actually really cold."

"I just said that." 2D points out, a frown in his voice. "...Are we gonna keep driving?"

Murdoc sighs, shrugging. "Y'know... I _want to_ but I'm gonna say have to say _no_ because I'd rather have fuel in the tank than waste it and break down somewhere even_more_ desolate."

2D nods at this.

It sounds reasonable enough.

Murdoc turns off the car and he realizes just how _quiet _and dead their surroundings are. They talk back and forth for a while to provide sounds and comfort, tiredness getting a hold of them both and there isn't a dashboard clock to glance at. It's definitely late, though. Murdoc yawns tiredly, stretching his arms above his head and he closes his eyes. He turns his head and looks at the backseat longingly, the promise of a blanket and sleep overwhelming him.

Without speaking he climbs into the backseat and settles in, glancing at the singer's silhouette.

"Going to sleep?" 2D asks, turning his head to glance at Murdoc.

"Planning to, yeah." the bassist mumbles, feeling cold despite the blanket now on his person. He pauses, a thought going through his mind but he's unsure if he should voice it. "...Are you?"

"I might." the singer replies, his voice sounding indifferent. "I might just go to sleep later, though, after you wake up."

(_Now_ Murdoc thinks that he should voice his thoughts.)

"Er..'D..." he says lowly, growing uncomfortable despite the fact that he hasn't said anything yet. This catches 2D's attention.

"Yeah?"

2D is facing him fully now and Murdoc feels a bit tongue-tied.

"Christ." He sighs in irritation, trying again. "Get over here."

2D looks confused. "What?"

"Get _over _here." Murdoc says again, motioning for the singer to join him in the back seat. "It's fuckin' cold, just _come on _and sit back here with me."

The harshness of his tone seems to compel the singer to do as he says and he climbs over, sitting next to him. Murdoc scoots closer, and places part of his blanket over 2D.

It's awkward, to say the least.

"I'm still cold." the singer moans, shivering incessantly. Murdoc tries to say something snappish but is cut off by a yawn.

"..Well. _I'm_ fuckin' tired so I'm going to sleep." he says, moving to lie down. "You should too."

"But there's only enough room back here for _you_ to lay down-"

"-Then lay down on top of me!" Murdoc snaps, huffing. He soon realizes how _weird_ that sounds and the stumbles over his words, trying to speak again. "I-It's just heat conservation. People do it all the time in life-or-death situations."

"..Is it life or death?"

Murdoc sighs. "It might be if you _freeze_, you moron." he grinds out, lying on his back and spreading his legs. "Just lay down on me and put the blanket over you."

He feels 2D eye him skeptically but before he can snap at him to hurry up 2D lies on top of him, settled between his legs. He props his chin on his hands, staring him in the eye. The blanket peeks over the singer, draping onto the bassist's shoulder. Their fronts press together snugly and suddenly Murdoc doesn't feel that cold anymore. 2D yawns tiredly, long arms wrapping around the other's waist, lowering his head and rests his chin on Murdoc's shoulder.

"G'night."

The bassist doesn't know where to put his arms so he leaves them pressed to his sides and he squeezes his eyes shut. Part of him wants to wrap his legs around the singer's waist but he forces himself not to and grinds his teeth in frustration. He doesn't answer right away, waiting for 2D's breathing to even out and when he's sure that the other man is asleep, he buries his face into the crook of his neck.

oOo

note: familiar town = the place w the bar from chapter 3


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**warning:** implied nsfw stuff happens but not...not involving both of them. if you know what I mean. _STAYING AT A TEEN RATING!_

oOo

The first thing Murdoc notices when the haze of sleep begins to fade is that he's having trouble breathing. He gasps, heated puffs of air just barely managing to escape between his chapped lips.

There's a constant heavy weight pressing against his midsection and groin, its tantalizing heat providing comfort in his otherwise distressing predicament.

He feels himself grow hard but he doesn't move.

Behind closed eyes he sees bright flashing lights and vibrant colors. There's a mouth breathing hotly against his exposed neck, lips brushing against it every so often and he feels a moan build in his chest.

There's a figure pressed flush against him, between his spread legs and in his bleary tiredness he hooks a leg around their waist, desperate for the contact. This simple action causes the pressure on his groin to intensify and he wants to rut against it, he wants to _moan_ _openly _but before he can do that a snore erupts from the mouth on his neck and he snaps his eyes open.

Bright, _harsh _sunlight appears above him, which he finds strange because usually there are clouds there. And they're usually dark and bleak.

Then he looks to the side and sees _blue_. Blue hair. He can't see the face because it's pressed to his neck.

Then he looks down. His leg is still hooked around that waist and he remembers.

Murdoc shoots up, violently shoves the singer off of himself and he scrambles into the front of the vehicle.

"Augh!" 2D cries out, nearly tumbling to the floor of the car in surprise. "Wha'? Where?"

"It's morning." Murdoc informs, voice straining as he tries to will his erection away. "We need to backtrack properly and get home." He hears rustling in the back seat and panics. "_Stay back there!_"

A pause.

"...Why?" 2D asks from behind, his tone sounding unsure. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Just go back to sleep, dullard." he mutters bitterly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, adjusting his pants. "You're obviously still delirious and will serve me absolutely no use in your current state."

Another pause.

"Um...okay, then." 2D says, surrendering.

Murdoc starts the car and drives off without waiting for it to warm up.

oOo

It doesn't take long for the two of them to get home. Pulling into his parking space, Murdoc parks the car and turns it off, gripping the steering-wheel as if it were the only thing keeping him sane. He takes a moment to collect himself, rubbing his bony fingers across his tired cheeks before clambering into the backseat, shaking 2D awake.

"Wake up, 2D."

The singer's eyes snap open and he jumps, kicking his legs fearfully, narrowly missing the bassist.

"W-What? What, huh?" he asks, sitting up, looking around wildly. His gaze moves to the bassist. "..Where?...Hey?"

"_Hey_." Murdoc repeats, smirking. "We're back."

2D's expression brightens at this, eyes showing a bit more clarity. "Really? What time is it?"

Murdoc snorts, rolling his eyes. "_Rrreally_." he drawls, moving away from the singer and exits the car. "And it's high noon, dent face. Y'might as well get started on your day, yeah?"

The singer stumbles out of the car, losing his footing as soon as he makes his escape. "Yeah." he says, smiling tiredly at the bassist. He glances at his bedroom door longingly, brows pinching together in exhaustion. "Gotta get changed, though. I'll see you later, Muds."

He says it with a wave.

Murdoc waves back, a small frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. Dejected, he resolves to head into his Winnebago and drink himself into a new life.

He doesn't get far.

"Hey, Muds?" 2D calls over, voice loud enough to give him pause and Murdoc looks over his shoulder.

"What'dya want?" he asks gruffly, his need for a drink growing stronger with every passing second.

2D twiddles his thumbs nervously, lips twitching. "...I jus' wanted to say... thanks, for yesterday. I had fun." he says softly, smiling brightly at the bassist.

Murdoc nods stiffly, embarrassed by the sentiment in his tone and expression.

"..Is that all?"

The singer pauses, considering. He purses his lips in thought before he continues.

"...Also, you were righ' about the _heat conservation_ thing. You're quite warm, surprisingly enough."

And then he leaves without another word.

Murdoc is left standing there utterly mortified.

_Why is he so embarrassed?_ It's not like 2D said anything obscene. Murdoc can handle obscene stuff, he's anything but sheltered and he's had his fair share of disgusting situations. He's been around.

But _innocence_. He knows that 2D isn't innocent in many respects, but the way he presents himself sometimes is just so damn _charming_ that Murdoc completely shuts down.

He's shut down.

When he gets his bearings straight he tries to find strength in his legs. When he finds strength in his legs, he tries to walk.

And walking towards his Winnebago is an experience.

He trips over his feet and holds onto the doorframe for dear life, stumbling up the steps and he collapses onto the nearest surface.

He blindly searches for the nearest bottle of booze he can get his hands on, pops it open swiftly and puts the lip to his mouth. He drinks, drinks _deeply _as if he were a dying man drinking water for the first time in years and when he's done he finds another.

He feels a haze settle over him, a sort of fog clouding his mind but his feelings don't go away. And his feelings soon turn into thoughts. Thoughts that he's had before, countless times in his dreams and hallucinations but nothing like this.

They all feature him and 2D, and he feels himself grow hot and hard and he stumbles to his bed. As the thoughts grow more explicit, he imagines just how _badly_he wants the singer on him, _in _him, and he growls, tearing his jeans off with shaking hands.

He takes hold of himself desperately, moaning openly like he had wanted to so badly this morning and with his traitorous thoughts consuming his mind he reaches his climax_._

oOo

It's 4 pm and he's already off his rocker, tripping over himself as he enters Kong in search of the others. He's too plastered to remember the guilt, to feel any shame. He's not wearing a shirt, his pants are crumpled and he isn't wearing any shoes.

He can hear sounds coming from the distance and he follows them, finding himself in the living room and watching the other three playing video games like a family.

He sees Russell look over at him and frown. When Russell looks over, Noodle looks over. And when Noodle looks over, 2D looks over. Now they're all starting at him, mixed expressions on their faces.

"Hey, Muds!" 2D calls in greeting, not quite taking in the bassist's physical appearance. Murdoc doesn't answer, he just continues walking and he dumps himself onto the couch. He leans heavily against 2D's side, sighing, and the singer looks down at him in confusion. "Uh."

"Why aren't you wearin' a shirt?" Russell asks, putting the game on pause. "Damn, weren't you just complainin' the other day how cold it is around here?"

Murdoc offers him a rude gesture in reply, eliciting a snarl from the drummer.

"Game! Why stop?" Noodle cries out, turning an accusatory glare in the direction of the three men. Her eyes land on Murdoc and she frowns. "Murdoc-san make Russell-sama stop game."

Murdoc snorts, pressing himself further against 2D's side.

"Yeah, well," he says, his tone informative despite the gross feeling settling in the pit of his stomach, "these things tend t'happen when you're as detestable as I am. Everyone in this room can attest to that. Gives _you_ another reason t'hate me, yeah? Ain't that right, 'D?"

2D remains completely silent. Russell growls at the ridiculous notion, tossing his controller to the floor.

"I was just askin' you a damn question, y'don't gotta go sayin' somethin' like that to Noodle!" he snaps, turning his attention back to the girl in question. He sighs, tone and expression softening. "Baby-girl, can y'please go up to your room for a bit? We can continue playin' later."

Murdoc laughs, nudging 2D's side with his elbow. The singer makes a sound of discomfort.

Noodle looks unsure, a deep frown pulling at the corners of her mouth but she nods and stands.

"You are sure?" she asks softly, looking over at Murdoc with concern.

Russell laughs. "Yeah, doll." he says with a smile. Still unsure, Noodle rises to her feet and slowly takes her leave.

Immediately, the tension returns and Russell's expression hardens. He gets up off of the couch and stands in front of the bassist, glaring down at him with his arms crossed over his chest. "I already know you been drinkin', I ain't even a little surprised at that. But why the hell are you walkin' around here in the dead of winter half-dressed and talkin' nonsense to Noodle?"

Murdoc feels 2D start to move away from him but he doesn't do anything about it. He stares up at the drummer, eyes glazed over and he shrugs. "I dunno wha' y'want me t'say."

Russell growls and uncrosses his arms, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "I don' even know what _I _want you to say, Murdoc." he hisses, rubbing his face. "But don' start sayin' stuff that'll make Noodle feel weird. She don' need t'be choosin' sides or anythin' like that. She's a child, and she doesn't need t'be exposed to the type of bullshit you bring on the daily."

When Murdoc doesn't answer, Russell snarls. "Y'know what? Whatever. I don' have t'deal with this shit either."

And he leaves the room.

Murdoc feels shifting on the other side of the couch and he glances over to see 2D facing him.

"Why did you say that?" he asks, a disapproving frown on his face. "I mean, I know it's not the biggest deal in th'world but _still_."

Murdoc just laughs, shaking his head. "S'not like I was lyin' or anything, mate." he smirks, scooting closer to the singer. "He wants Noodle to be smart like him."

2D's eyes widen in shock.

"Muds, Russ doesn't hate you."

Murdoc rolls his eyes, leaning against the singer once more. "Trus' me, Stu. When you're around as long as me, y'star' pickin' up _vibes_."

2D doesn't try to move away this time. His posture loosens up, and when Murdoc rests his head on the singer's shoulder he doesn't refuse.

"Muds..." he says softly, voice sounding heartbroken. "Y'fight with Russ all the time, but if he hated you he wouldn't be here."

"He's here for Noodle." Murdoc mutters. "Noodle has no choice but to be here. If it weren' for her, no one would stay."

2D doesn't answer right away, and Murdoc almost feels like his statement is being confirmed before the singer finally speaks.

"_I'd_ stay."

The bassist lifts his head off of the singer's shoulder in surprise. He looks up, forcing himself to look the other in the eye and when he does he feels his heartbeat quicken.

"_Why?_" he asks, caught off guard despite his state of mind.

"You're m'best friend, Murdoc." 2D says softly, expression sad and listless. "I've been with ya for a few years, now. I'd never leave you, not after all we've been through t'gether."

Murdoc feels something painful pull in his chest. A choked sob forms in his chest, something in his eye begins to sting and well up and in a sudden flare of emotion he wraps his arms around 2D's neck and embraces him.

He almost doesn't notice when the hug is returned.

oOo

A/N: he drunk af


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

oOo

In the restless nights of Kong, a different kind of moan can be heard coming from the landfill. Unsteady footsteps stagger in and out of the carpark, roaming around the halls and even though Murdoc is _tough as nails_, it still scares the shit out of him.

Lying on his bed, stiff as a board, he clutches the barrel of a gun to his chest in the hopes that he'll be able to ward off any and all zombies that may come into his room. His shoulders grow painfully stiff at the thought of being torn apart and eaten by walking corpses.

"_Urghh..._"

His breathing grows hard and haggard in his lungs. Soft footsteps can be heard just outside his window, warbling and fading behind broken glass and cloth curtains. His ears strain to hear them properly.

In a matter of seconds those soft footsteps begin to grow loud and frantic. They bound around and into the Winnebago, his front door slamming open with a sharp metallic _clang!_

Murdoc, caught off guard and completely unprepared, lets out a terrified yelp and throws the gun in his hand through the open doorway in a poorly planned attempt to save himself.

"AUGH! _OW, FUCK!_"

Murdoc freezes, recognizing the intruder's voice.

"_2D? _Holy shit, mate, is that you?"

He doesn't get an immediate answer. After a few seconds of stiff silence, 2D pokes his head in through the doorway, forehead sporting a large bruising bump. He steps forward slowly, gun in hand.

"What the bloody hell was that for?"

Murdoc feels his face heat up in embarrassment and he casts a glare. "I thought you were one of those damn zombies!"

"...And y'decided to throw the gun at me instead of shooting?" 2D asks in surprise, handing the gun back to Murdoc. "Thanks for not doing that, by the way."

Murdoc shoves the gun under his pillow quickly, covering his face with his free hand.

"Whatever. What the hell are you doin' out here?"

2D smiles apologetically. "Yeah, sorry. I was on my way back from the toilets and I noticed tha' you were bein' really quiet."

Murdoc sits up fully, feeling oddly defensive. He clutches at his sheets in an effort to steady himself. "And you decided to, what? Come into my space without askin' first?"

2D looks taken aback, eyes widening as he scrambles to get his words out. "N-no! I mean, uh, yes. ...But not-!Ugh-"

"-Okay, okay, it's fine, dullard." Murdoc says with a slight placating undertone, rolling his eyes. "What'dya want, anyway?"

2D settles down a bit and resumes his peaceful speech pattern, a relieved smile on his face. "...I jus' wanted t'see if you were doin' alright. ...Er...I know that nights like these can be sorta... hard."

The bassist stiffens, clenches his fists and glares openly. "I ain't scared."

The singer smiles innocently but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I never said that you were, Muds."

**Fuck **.

Murdoc scowls, unresponsive and 2D shifts his weight from foot to foot. He starts backing away from the other man, moving closer to the doorway with purpose.

The singer stares at the bassist, gathering his thoughts. "..Uh...Sorry..I didn' come out here t'poke fun at you, Murdoc." He says this very gently, ceasing his fidgety movements.

"Then why did y'come out here, huh?" Murdoc snaps defensively, readying himself to pounce if further provoked. 2D notices this and flounders.

"I-I just wanted to know if you were doin' okay...! A-an' if you wanted t'sleep in my room for the night."

Oh.

Murdoc wan't expecting to be presented with such a tempting offer and now he's suffering from emotional whiplash. He's left with wide eyes and an open mouth and he snaps it shut before drool can start accumulating.

"...Why?" he finally asks, voice pitched up and he coughs through the discomfort.

2D takes a deep soothing breath and his demeanor becomes much more relaxed and much more like himself.

"B'cause my room has better locks than yours and you won't have t'throw guns at monsters in the middle of the night."

Again, the kid has a valid point and Murdoc can't find it in himself to argue. He sighs, nods and scratches the side of his head in defeat.

"Yeah, alright."

2D grins and holds out a slender hand in offering. Murdoc grabs it immediately, not questioning it like times before and he's hefted to his feet with little trouble.

He lets go of the hand not a second later, follows the singer out of his Winnebago and over to 2D's bedroom door. It's the promised-land of sorts, heaven-on-Earth sans glowing white arches and he ignores the cold biting at his skin in favor of preparing himself for the inevitable.

He never had problems with toughing it out before, he's usually able to keep away from the dead things but he doesn't want to let this opportunity pass him by.

He's ushered into 2D's room quickly and the lights are blinding, much more luminescent and vibrant than the flickering bulbs in the carpark and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust. The singer shuts the door behind them, locks it and pushes something very heavy in front of it.

A barricade.

"Sorry." 2D says embarrassedly, noticing the pained look on Murdoc's face. "Wait, wait, hold on."

He walks away and dims the lights to a more tolerable level. Murdoc blinks, rubs at his eyes and looks up at the singer.

"Why in the name of sweet Satan do you keep your lights so damn bright?" he asks, still squinting despite the fact that he can see properly now. 2D shrugs.

"My eyes aren't that great." he says simply. "I'll admit that the lighting is a little excessive, though."

That sounds reasonable enough. Murdoc nods and plants himself on 2D's bed, looking around the room in curiosity.

Trash on the floor, keyboards strewn everywhere and clothing is spewing out of boxes and dressers. Finally, his eyes land back on 2D's face and he smirks.

"Y'need to clean up, two-dents."

2D snorts, shaking his head and his shoulders quake with silent laughter.

"I could say the same thing 'bout you, Muds." he teases with a grin, dropping himself heavily next to Murdoc and he stretches himself out on his back. Murdoc, not even slightly offended by the remark, grins.

"True."

oOo

They talk for a while.

They talk mostly about the disgusting rotting dead stuff lurking about the carpark. Even though 2D claims to love zombie movies, his hands tremble slightly and there's a hint of fear in his voice as he talks about the real ones just outside his door.

Murdoc pulls himself fully onto the bed and lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling with feigned interest. He drums his fingers against the worn duvet, listening to 2D's blathering intently, closes his eyes and he allows himself to enjoy the soft intones of the singer's voice.

They also talk about band practices and upcoming tours. What they'll see, who they'll meet and the different types of beer they'll find in local bars.

Then it falls still.

It's silent for more than a few minutes and the bassist begins to wonder if the singer fell asleep when there's a lethargic rustling beside him. Murdoc props himself up on his elbows, looking on inquisitively as 2D struggles to get to his feet.

Humming to himself absentmindedly, the singer begins rifling through his dressers and moving stuff around on his floor until he finally finds proper night clothes. He sighs, and without a word he begins undressing himself, still humming and hopping on one foot.

Murdoc feels his mouth go dry. He can't swallow, he can't take his eyes away and he feels sort of hot.

It's not provocative.

It's not sexy in any way, shape or form. It's just clumsy.

But the mere action of fabric sliding against the singer's pale skin, bunching up at his chin and being pulled over his head is enough to set Murdoc's own aflame as he bites back a needy moan.

Before he can stare too long 2D is dressed in white cotton shorts and a plain black t-shirt. He flicks the lights off and they're covered in blanket darkness, the vaguest outline of 2D's silhouette visible. Murdoc feels the singer leap onto the bed next to him, jostling him violently but he doesn't react.

He's still frozen, desperately trying to fight off the arousal threatening to bloom with clenched teeth and tight fists. He's failing miserably.

His concentration is broken by the sound of a yawn and when he glances over at 2D he's still met with darkness.

He's sure that the singer is staring at him.

"I'm going t'sleep." 2D says tiredly, rolling onto his back and he sighs.

"...And?"

The singer snorts, slides under the covers and pats the spot next to him lazily. "C'mon."

The bassist remains silent, not quite expecting to be allowed to sleep on the bed and he's at a loss. He stays still for a moment longer and 2D laughs quietly.

"Come on, mate." 2D says patiently, a smile in his voice and Murdoc quickly does as he's told. He wriggles a bit until he's lying adjacent to the singer, atop the covers and he feels cold. He feels 2D nudge him wordlessly and he gets under the blankets, much warmer and much cleaner than his own.

"G'night, Muds." the singer yawns tiredly, rolling onto his side with his back facing the bassist.

"...Yeah." Murdoc responds quietly, remaining completely still and he doesn't make a move to change position.

His heart is racing and he feels mushy. Intrusive thoughts fill his head- many are sweet while others are very graphic. He bites his inner cheek, he squeezes his eyes shut and he remains completely silent for what feels like hours.

When he hears 2D's breathing fall even he scoots himself closer, his side pressed firmly against 2D's back and he can feel the soft thrums of 2D's heartbeat. He allows himself this small comfort, sighing softly in relief as his head rests against the back of 2D's neck.

What a great opportunity.

oOo


	16. standoff: Chapter 15 - Bar Hop

**Chapter 15 - Bar Hop**

**note:** this chapter is super long 8O but not really.

oOo

It's not a matter of asking.

Murdoc stands before 2D with his arms crossed, his hip cocked and a plan in mind. 2D looks up at him in confusion from his seat on the couch as he waits for the other man to speak, eyes wide with anticipation. Silence passes between them and it's almost tangible, never breaking or wavering during their impromptu staring contest.

When 2D begins to squirm Murdoc finally decides that _enough is_ _enough_, that 2D's uncomfortable expression is a little too much to bear, and that he should cut his losses and just get on with it_. _He takes a deep breath and begins to speak, his voice stern and revealing very little room for arguing.

"Alright, dullard- I'm not givin' y'much of a choice here. Y'either come out with me tonight and have a great time, or you come out with me tonight against your will. Take your pick."

2D scratches his head dumbly, still staring ahead.

Murdoc continues to glare at him and he waits for his answer.

"...Why?" the singer finally asks, slowly, tilting his head to the side with a slight frown.

Murdoc stares back, not allowing himself to feel disheartened at the fact that 2D didn't answer him correctly. He curls his lip and lets out a snarl.

"Why what?"

The singer blinks at the snappish response and chooses to elaborate with caution, eyes growing impossibly wide. "Why d'ya think I wouldn't wanna come out with you?"

Murdoc shrugs and looks off to the side, fringe brushing his burning cheeks as his gruff demeanor is quickly forgotten.

"Just bein' cautious. Anyway, it doesn't matter because we're goin' barhoppin'."

This news makes the singer's eyes widen a bit, for whatever reason."...Alone?"

Murdoc doesn't understand the significance of the question.

"Obviously." he drawls, and before he can say any more the singer's expression changes.

With a smile and a nod, he says "Okay."

Murdoc wasn't expecting such a quick response and he clears his throat, glancing at the digital clock by the television, heart beating hard in his chest.

"Okay."

oOo

The two of them walk side by side in companionable silence, the halls having long since been abandoned. The only sound that can be heard amongst the wet, dripping pipes overhead is the soft padding of their mismatched footsteps.

It takes them a few minutes to reach the carpark, and when they do they head straight for the Geep. Murdoc drops himself into the driver's seat, starting the car quickly as 2D opens the passenger-side door. They both neglect to fasten themselves in.

They drive down the steep, winding hill, through the rusted iron gates, and onto the dark, wet road. They're completely alone with no lights to guide them, heading into no mans land without proper cause.

The cold air stings Murdoc's exposed face, wind roaring sharply in his ears and his scarf-clad neck warms with embarrassment as 2D continues to smirk at him.

He's bundled up even more than usual, almost comically so and 2D keeps smiling at him, letting out little snorts of laughter every-so-often with each look he gives him.

"Don't fuckin' look at me like that."

These are the first words spoken and 2D laughs again

The bassist feels even more self-conscious, gripping the steering wheel tight in his hands. "Satan, look out the window or somethin'!"

The singer calms down a bit and does as he's told.

"Sorry."

"Whatever."

It remains silent for the rest of the ride and it's relatively peaceful with few glances exchanged. It's only slightly uncomfortable on Murdoc's part, his mind drifting into unwanted territory and he grits his teeth.

The town is fast approaching, dull lights guiding their way and although there aren't other cars driving on the road Murdoc sees people.

The town is completely dark and the streets are lined with cars and off-kilter drunks. Bumbling fools- some are stumbling and others are retching, the pungent stench of stale breath and alcohol meeting his nostrils.

What a wonderful smell.

Murdoc parks the Geep haphazardly, half on the sidewalk and he turns the car off without trying to fix it. Everyone around him is too smashed to complain, too into themselves to bother him about it and he doesn't care.

Removing his layers, he exits the car and slams the door shut behind him. He rounds over to the passenger side to wait for the singer, shivering all the while. 2D follows his lead but it's much less graceful, all legs and arms and he almost falls over when he finally escapes the vehicle's clutches.

"Nice one." Murdoc smirks, pocketing his keys and gazes amusedly at the singer. 2D smiles, not even a little ashamed.

"I do what I can."

It's the same dingy bar that he found himself in not too long ago- the one with that bleach-haired groupie-fan...whatever her name was. He thinks it was a boy's name. He doesn't care that much, though, because now he's with the singer.

Rundown places such as this always hold a more interesting crowd. The people are disgusting and he feels great in comparison.

The patrons look up when they notice a flash of blue and they immediately flock to the two of them in recognition, excitement on their features and they press themselves close to the rockstars.

Women smile sweetly at both of them, drunken flirtatiousness guiding their movements as they make a grab for 2D. The singer seems to appreciate the attention and he smiles back at them, his own flirtatiousness beginning to peak and Murdoc notices this. His own smile falters, failing him and he scowls.

He doesn't have time for this.

His smile returns with a surprising amount of force and charm and he bids the women farewell as he ushers 2D through the small crowd. They seat themselves at the bar, ignoring the fans for the most part as they order their drinks.

"I keep forgettin' that we're well known." 2D comments, tapping his fingers against the tabletop as the women skitter away. "I don' think I'm gonna get used t'this."

"Trus' me, kid. Y'will." Murdoc grins, his expression genuine and when his pint is placed in front of him he raises it. 2D does the same, and they both drink.

"Yeah?" the singer asks, hope in his eyes and his voice.

Murdoc nods.

"Yeah."

oOo

The plan was to go "barhopping", but that isn't exactly what's happening.

They're stationary. Still glued to their spots, the same rotating barstools, and as time goes on they order more and more alcohol.

Well, Murdoc does.

2D sips at his second beer and watches the bassist in amusement as he downs his fourth.

"We goin' any place else, Muds?" he asks, a small toothy grin on his lips. The bassist in question merely stares at him through beer goggles and shakes his head.

"Nah. Th'stuff here is bloody fantastic."

2D nods with a laugh and a shrug of his shoulders.

"I've had worse."

"Aye, aye." Murdoc says with a smirk, slugging down the rest of his beer quickly. He doesn't have to ask for another pint as it's dropped in front of him, foam dripping down the side of the glass tantalizingly. He grins at the bartender and offers a salute.

"Thank'ya, sir."

The old bartender rolls his eyes and mutters something to himself, turning away from the bassist as he surrenders his attention to his other customers.

"Such a sweet man, he is." Murdoc coos, resting his chin in his hand with a love-sick expression on his face. 2D snorts and starts coughing on his drink, dropping it on the tabletop as he tries to breathe.

Panicked, Murdoc leaps out of his seat and smacks 2D squarely on the back, his intentions good but overall unhelpful. He feels bad, and resolves to rub soothing circles on the singer's back instead. Once 2D calms down, he ceases his motions.

"Y'alright, mate?" he asks, removing his hand and reclaims his seat across from his friend. "Don't croak on me, now."

2D wheezes a bit and clears his throat experimentally. He sighs, the sound coming out grainy and raw.

"Yeah, m'fine." he says, nodding and coughing once more. "Sorry, y'made me laugh. Went down th'wrong pipe."

"Don't apologize for _that_, twit." Murdoc scoffs, shaking his head. He lifts his beer to his mouth and takes a sip, closing his eyes. He sighs in satisfaction, returning his attention to the singer. "I shoul' be apologizin', mate. Sorry. Shouldn' be cracking jokes when liquids are around."

To say that 2D looks surprised would be an understatement.

But he looks surprised.

"O-oh, well. It's okay, Muds. No harm done." he says, a pleasant flush spreading across his pale cheeks.

Murdoc notices this and his own face flushes for a different reason.

They continue to drink, friendly chatter growing more animated and they both laugh, once again drawing the attention of the female patrons at the bar.

Lust-filled gazes land on the two males, and a woman with mousy hair saunters over to them. Her cherry-colored lips stretch into a smile, an inebriated flush colors her naturally caramel cheeks and she rubs up against the singer with purpose.

"Y'got interestin' hair, kid." she says, preening, her northern accent thick and almost indecipherable. Murdoc's mirth is suddenly gone and he stares at her, his eyes devoid of emotion.

2D glances at her face, down at her chest, back into her eyes (light brown, the color of chocolate diamonds) and smiles at her.

"Y'think so?" he asks, childish lilt gone, a seductive tone taking its place.

Murdoc feels like he's going to be sick.

The woman laughs throatily, in a way the bassist would've found desirable if he weren't so enamored with a certain someone.

"Yeah." she replies coyly, pulling a carton of cigarettes from the pouch on her leg garter. She extracts one, places it between 2D's lips and lights it for him. Murdoc watches in dreadful silence as the ashes glow bright orange, as the smoke floats from between the singer's gapped teeth.

2D stares at her appraisingly, smirk on his mouth, holding a hand out to her in offering.

"What's y'name, love?"

She smirks in turn, grabbing his hand, eyes gleaming knowingly. Murdoc watches on in morbid curiosity, trying hard not to lose his temper.

"Camellia." she croons, her long eyelashes fluttering against her supple cheeks.

"Ah, yeah! Like the flower." 2D says appreciatively, placing a delicate kiss to the back of her hand.

Having had enough of this display, Murdoc gets to his feet and stumbles in the direction of a booth, beer in hand, slumping down onto a worn leather seat. He ignores the tinkling laughs of the girls flocking to him and he glares ahead, burning holes into the singer's skull.

He should've known this would happen.

oOo

He's losing it.

It's not until he's reached his sixth beer, limp body nearly hanging off the table, that he decides he's had it with the whole thing.

Had it with watching the singer caress the strumpet's shapely ass. Had it with watching her red lips brush against 2D's, against his neck and jaw. Absolutely had it with watching her settle into his lap, rub against his crotch and witness the pleasant flush rise to the singer's cheeks.

With an angry grunt he knocks his empty glass onto the floor, cracking it as a result. When he stands he kicks it under the table, snarling and cursing. The women at his side shrink away from him, not expecting such a violent display and they don't ask him to return when he leaves them behind.

He growls under his breath when he approaches the affectionate pair, hands landing squarely on Camellia's shoulders and he yanks her off of 2D's lap. Their lips separate with a wet pop and when she stumbles to the floor she glares up at him in indignation.

2D cries out in surprise, outraged.

"-**Murdo-!**

"_-What th'fuck is your problem?!" _Camellia snaps, cutting the singer off as struggles to get to her feet.

She's tall, several inches taller than Murdoc and she towers over him menacingly. "Why th'fuck did you do that, y'nit?!"

Murdoc is unaffected by this and he doesn't hesitate to get in her face.

"Listen, _love_," he snarls, standing his ground and baring his teeth. "Don' wanna have t'break it t'you, but I had n'ough o'watchin' y'muddy up my singer with your sleazy hands."

Camellia sucks in a scathing breath, face red with rage and she slaps Murdoc sharply across the face. His head doesn't jerk with the motion but her hand leaves a sizable mark on his cheek and her manicured nails leave small welts in their wake.

He reaches his hand up to his cheek and prods, the tips of his fingers turning red and wet with blood. He growls in the back of his throat and clenches his fists threateningly, sizing her up. Camellia blanches, eyes wide and her lips quiver.

"_Listen here, you mother fuckin' **harlot**_-"

"-**SHUT UP!**"

Murdoc and Camellia freeze at the sharp voice and they turn to face 2D in surprise. The bar goes silent and the patrons stare at the three of them in shock, murmurs soon erupting around them.

2D turns to face Camellia with a frown. His gaze then lands on Murdoc and his frown deepens, contempt clear in his glassy eyes.

"Give me your keys." he snaps, pretty face contorting in disgust. When Murdoc doesn't answer, 2D gets to his feet and grabs the shorter man's arm. "Give me the damn keys."

Wordlessly, Murdoc obliges and hands the singer his car keys. 2D takes them and turns to face Camellia.

"Nice meetin' you." he says dully, not sparing her any of his annoyance and she jumps at the sudden change in mood.

She doesn't reply.

The singer's grip is tight on the bassist's arm and he continues to pull, toting Murdoc out of the bar behind him. Wandering eyes follow but they're soon forgotten. Coming out of his shocked state, Murdoc begins to struggle.

"Lemme go!" he snaps, tugging his arm to no avail. The grip on his arm tightens and he hisses at the pressure. "LET ME GO!"

Only when they're outside does the singer let go of Murdoc's arm. The taller man turns to face him, and his expression is nothing short of terrifying.

"Why the fuck did you do that?" he asks, voice but a raised whisper and it sends chills down Murdoc's spine.

"None of your damn business." he snaps back, tripping over himself as he tries to maneuver around the singer. A hand lands on his shoulder and he tenses up, nostrils flaring.

"I don't get you." 2D whispers harshly, grip tightening, tone accusing. Murdoc jerks away and turns to face him, frowning.

"_Wha'?_"

2D laughs humorlessly, shaking his head.

"You have this weird... _thing_ about you, Muds." He says this with a smile, but it isn't genuine. "Y'keep doin' weird things. And sayin' weird things. Y'wanna hang out an' it's fun, but sometimes y'do stuff like this. Why?"

Murdoc feels his chest tighten and his muscles start to clench, straining with the urge to do something violent.

"Th'fuck are y'tryin t'say, huh?" he hisses, edging towards the singer aggressively. "I ain't doin' anythin' outa the ordinary, see? I'm Murdoc Niccals an' I ain't gonna stan' here an' let ya talk shit to me, _pretty boy_."

2D doesn't move when Murdoc comes closer. He doesn't flinch when the front of his shirt is fisted and pulled at. His angered expression falls and he looks sad.

"Why are ya doin' this, Muds?"

Murdoc freezes.

"M'not doin' anything." he growls, shoving 2D away. He trudges over to the car and clambers into the passenger seat, pouting. "Take me home."

oOo

The ride back to Kong is completely silent.

No chatter, no apologies...

Nothing.

It's tense and it's uncomfortable and Murdoc has to tell himself not to scratch at his arms in his anxious state.

The cold air burns his face but he doesn't shiver. He isn't wearing his coat and he doesn't complain. 2D's hands are gripping the steering wheel, his face a stony mask and for the first time Murdoc is honestly afraid of him.

He's afraid that he might've just royally fucked up everything.

His head is pounding and he stifles a pained groan, gripping at his stomach when the nausea starts to come forward again.

Kong is fast approaching and he needs another drink.

oOo

He's gone through an entire bottle of rum and he's going on his second.

His eyesight is swimming, colors and patterns dancing erratically behind his closed lids in his quest for numbness.

The scene from the bar keeps playing in his head; it's so vivid and real, to the point where he could almost believe that he were re-living it over and over again.

He had wanted tonight to be fun. It was supposed to be FUN. But, of course, 2D had to go and screw around with some tart. And, sure, they didn't fuck, but it could've come to that.

2D was thinking about it. Murdoc is positive of that much.

He reaches for his untouched bottle of rum and takes a sip, scrubbing his face tiredly and he ignores the humming in his ears. It starts off soft, mere background noise that anyone could ignore if they just closed their eyes and thought of something else. However, it soon turns aggressive, morphing into angry cursing in his forebrain. He wants to alleviate it, the pounding in his skull, but he has no idea how to. He pictures the singer, he remembers the questions he asked him and he gets to his feet without another thought.

He stumbles out of his room, out of his Winnebago and towards 2D's room. He knocks on the door once, bottle of rum still clutched desperately in his hand. After a moment of stiff silence he hears shuffling from inside the room, and when the door is yanked open he wraps his arms around the singer's neck. He has to stretch in order to do this, bringing 2D down several inches.

"M'sorry, Stu." he whimpers, voice cracking as his rum bottle drops to the floor with a wet crash. He buries his face in the singers neck and tightens his hold, squeezing his eyes shut.

Arms wrap around his waist cautiously, bringing Murdoc flush against a soft, bony chest. As 2D straightens his spine the shorter man is lifted off the ground, toes grazing against the dirty, wet cement. Fingers brush against the nape of his neck, rubbing against his shirt collar in a soothing motion.

"It's okay."

oOo

END OF PART I


	17. PART II - Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

oOo

2D, much to everyone's surprise, stopped bringing girls home in the week following the bar incident. At first Murdoc thought it was just his own timing messing with his perception of things- that he was just missing the whole process of girls coming in and sneaking out at odd hours of the night. That thought was quickly dispelled after the third day, when he found 2D sleeping in the studio with notebooks scattered about the floor.

2D goes on with life as usual. He smiles, he laughs and he jokes around with the others, his demeanor remaining the same. And still, no girls.

Russell finds the whole thing puzzling.

Noodle notices a change but she doesn't care in the least, happy to see 2D around the house.

Murdoc is over-the-top ecstatic about the whole thing, manic grin always-present on his face and a proverbial skip in his step.

He's never been happier.

oOo

It's never warm but the snow is finally melting.

Melting, and being replaced by never-ending thunderstorms and rain pelting against broken glass. At least Murdoc doesn't have to wrap himself in his entire wardrobe anymore- that was becoming tedious and he felt like a child. Or a brittle old man.

He doesn't know which comparison is worse.

It's never warm, the snow is melting and the bright lightening strikes illuminate the dull lighting of the living room, casting shadows over the four figures seated on the couch.

All is silent.

It's nice because there haven't been any arguments yet and everyone seems relatively happy. It's nice because Murdoc is pressing himself heavily against 2D's side, and it's nice because the singer isn't complaining or making any moves to lean away.

Murdoc smirks in quiet satisfaction and leans closer, almost to the point where he could lean his head against 2D's shoulder if he really wanted to. He glances up at him through his fringe, keeping watch in case he was caught smiling.

He goes unnoticed for the most part.

The directionless noise of the TV fills the silence, replacing possible conversations and mindless chatter. Russell is busying himself with brushing Noodle's hair and Noodle, seated on the floor before him, is busying herself with her GameBoy. She lets out a small grunt when the drummer hits a particularly nasty knot in her hair, smoothing it out with the bristles the best he can.

"Y'hair is gettin' pretty long, baby girl." Russell comments with a slight frown, raking his fingers through the small girl's hair once before setting the hairbrush down. Noodle hums a bit and shrugs, never taking her eyes off of her game.

"S'gonna be a hassle tryin' to deal with it."

Another dismissive hum from the guitarist.

"Might get tangled if you don't start brushin' it yourself, doll."

Murdoc groans and rolls his eyes at the one-sided conversation, dragging a hand over his face in aggravation.

"If you're gonna be such a damn mother about it then cut it off." he snaps, providing his two-cents as if his opinion had any merit or weight on the subject. Russell makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat in response, clenching his teeth at the rude remark.

"I ain't gonna cut her hair without her permission, jackass." he snarls, peering around 2D in order to glare at Murdoc properly. "And I wasn't implying that it should be cut. I was jus' sayin-"

He's cut off by Noodle clearing her throat. She cranes her neck a bit to peer at the two men and shrugs, flicking her hair over her shoulder with her hand.

"I want cut." she says simply. She lifts a strand of hair and looks at it critically, dropping it to her shoulder once more. "Is... too hot. Too much hair is troublesome."

Murdoc snorts at her response and Russell nods with a gentle smile on his face.

"Okay, Noods. We'll get you a trim- somewhere nice, once spring comes. Would ya like that?"

Noodle smiles in affirmation and turns her head away, once again focusing her attention on her video game. A faint screaming sounds from the speakers of the television set but no one is affected by it, and no one questions why it was there in the first place.

Morning cartoons are dodgy at best.

Just below the blaring noises coming from the TV is the sound of elastic plucking and snapping against skin. Murdoc knows that it's coming from 2D because he's pressed against him and with every subtle flick of the singer's fingers Murdoc is jostled. He growls irritably and elbows the singer in the ribs, eliciting a muffled grunt from the taller man.

"Stop doing that." Murdoc snaps, drawing the attention of the two other band members with the sudden noise. Russell and Noodle look over at him in confusion, both of their eyes darting between the singer and bassist, landing on the elastic in 2D's hands and back at each other.

2D pauses for a second and makes a pained face, but he doesn't stop. He doesn't even look at Murdoc when he finally speaks.

"Why?"

Murdoc can feel his face twitching and the other side of the couch shifts when he starts to snarl.

"I'm out." Russell says cautiously, helping Noodle up off of the floor and they quickly make their way to the exit. "If ya kill him I'll kick your ass!"

They make a show of their exit, giving the two men uneasy and distrusting looks before finally leaving the room.

It's silent for a moment and 2D turns his head, glancing down at Murdoc. He pouts a bit, hands still busy and his shoulders droop.

"Y'made everyone leave." he whines, feigning sadness but his voice conveys more of a teasing undertone than anything. He still hasn't stopped playing with his elastic and Murdoc makes a grab for it. He misses, though, and now the singer has it around his wrist, unscathed and waiting for the next round of plucking.

"There are only four of us livin' here, dents." Murdoc grouches, retracting his arm and settling back into the couch. "Only two people left."

"That's half of us, Muds. And y'made them leave."

Murdoc kicks his foot against the singer's viciously but the angle and sheer length of 2D's leg makes it difficult to inflict any damage.

"Whatever. I've told you countless times to stop dicking around with those stupid rubber-bands."

2D snorts and nudges Murdoc's side, laughing.

"It's funny when y'get all pissy about it."

Murdoc turns his head a bit and narrows his eyes, tapping his fingers against his thigh. He purses his lips, thinking hard about what to say in response.

"You're gettin' real damn ballsy, Tusspot." he says slowly, watching as 2D turns to face him. "Sleep with one eye open, mate. I don't take bein' messed with lightly."

2D just smiles and shakes his head, adopting a knowing-smirk and it gives Murdoc pause.

"If you're gonna hit me, Muds, then y'might as well do it now."

Okay. Not the response he was expecting. The two stare at each other for a few seconds, Murdoc's eyes angry but he makes absolutely no move to do anything about his frustration. 2D's grin widens and he looks like he's celebrating some sort of victory.

"S'not worth it." Murdoc mutters, clenching his fists and he averts his gaze. When he hears 2D start to laugh he elbows him in the ribs again.

"-OW!"

"-Don't test me, next time I'll aim lower." he snaps, shoving the singer forcefully.

Not that he wants to be away from 2D- he just wants to prove that he isn't a fucking pushover.

2D rubs at his ribs tenderly, grimacing.

"That really hurt."

"Deal with it."

oOo

((the next day))

Despite what Murdoc had said, he doesn't know how to deal with it.

_It_, being 2D.

And the reason?

The singer is suffering from one of his awful debilitating migraines. The ones that reduce him to a sniveling teary mess; the ones that leave him unable to move or function like a normal person.

Murdoc had been lounging in the carpark (sitting on the ground) minding his own business (throwing rocks at 2D's bedroom door) when he heard a loud pained moan coming from the other side of the singer's door. Panicked, he immediately leapt to his feet and shot for the door, flinging it open to see the lights off, the room engulfed in darkness and when the light of the carpark started pooling into the room 2D let out an angry string of curses.

Fast-forward to now, and Murdoc is at a loss.

He's since shut the door and he's surrounded by pitch black, the pained inhalations of 2D's breathing the only sound to be heard.

Murdoc squints his eyes, vision barely adjusted to the low lighting and he attempts to make his way to the singer's bed. He sits himself down next to 2D and the singer moans softly, whimpering, turning his head a bit to peer at the bassist.

"What?" he whispers, wincing in pain with the effort it takes to speak. Murdoc takes this as his cue to be quiet as well.

"Why the hell are you making so much noise?" he whispers back, lifting a hand, pressing it against 2D's forehead in an attempt to sooth away whatever was ailing him. 2D makes a sound of discomfort but leans into the touch, closing his eyes.

"..Gotta migraine..." he says softly, biting his lip. "Can't get...to my meds."

Murdoc frowns and removes his hand, sighing softly.

"Where'd y'put 'em, dullard?" he asks, nearly forgetting to keep his voice down and he watches the singer cringe with a vague sense of regret. 2D is visibly struggling to get his words out, teeth clenching, eyes screwed shut.

"..In...my nightstand."

Said nightstand is at Murdoc's side and he shakes his head amusedly, a half-hearted smile on his face. He reaches into the open drawer and extracts a small orange pill bottle, pouring out the necessary dosage in his palm.

"So fucking lazy, I'm tellin' ya." he whispers teasingly. He takes hold of 2D's wrist and places the pills into his open palm. "Here."

The singer's mouth twitches a bit, an attempt at a smile and he lifts his head a bit. He pops the pills into his mouth all at once and swallows them dry, relief on his features when they enter his system.

Murdoc pretends that it doesn't bother him, but it does.

It bothers him a lot.

"Thanks, Muds." he whispers, smiling openly now and he rests his head against his pillow. Murdoc smiles back at him before he can stop himself and he turns away in embarrassment.

"Whatever. Try not to be so damn vocal about your migraines." he says, pausing and he gets to his feet. "And keep your pills in your pocket so I don't have to come busting in here. I ain't a damn nurse."

When he turns to leave there's a hand around his wrist, keeping him in place and when he faces the singer again 2D's eyes are pleading.

"Don't leave." he says softly, begging, brows furrowed, and he looks totally pathetic.

Of course Murdoc just eats that up and he doesn't have the heart to refuse. 2D lets go of his wrist and moves over a bit, making room for the other.

"I ain't going to sleep." Murdoc mumbles, pulling onto the bed completely and lies adjacent to 2D. The singer smiles and flings his blanket over the bassist weakly, barely managing to cover him.

"Y'don't have to. Jus' stay with me until I fall asleep."

Murdoc doesn't even want to argue. He sighs and nods, scooting a bit closer to the singer as he does, pulling the blanket over himself properly. He glances at 2D in the corner of his eye and the singer is smiling at him.

"Thanks, mate." he whispers, already close to falling asleep. Warm flutters fill Murdoc's chest and he stifles a sigh, mentally preparing himself for what would eventually take place.

"Sure."

After a while, they both drift off to sleep.

Silence fills the room, their peaceful breathing is all that can be heard and the sliver of light peeking in from 2D's cracked door goes unnoticed.

oOo

((chill))

He's cold.

When Murdoc awakens in 2D's bed there aren't arms wrapped around his waist and he isn't being pulled closer to that long lean body. His face is inches away from 2D's, the singer's expression is soft and serene and Murdoc knows that the medication is finally kicking in.

He should feel relieved but he isn't. He sighs through his nose and turns his head away, a faint feeling of nausea settling in the pit of his stomach.

He sits up and scrubs at his face tiredly, combing his fingers through his hair. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, gets to his feet and crosses the room as quietly as he can. He looks over his shoulder and gives 2D a once-over, shrugs and leaves the room in silence.

The carkpark is dark, darker than it usually is and Murdoc can hear a muffled voice on the other side of the carpark's entrance.

When the talking gets louder Murdoc kicks his foot against the door.

"Whoever the hell is flappin' their lips, they better shut the fuck up before I shove my foot in their mouth!" he says loudly, his threatening tone silencing the other voice and he smirks in victory.

That's before the door is yanked open from the other side.

His eyes widen a bit when he comes face to face with Russell, not quite expecting the large man to be on the other side of the door.

Who else would've been there? Noodle? Some random person squatting there for the night? He doesn't know, but anyone would've been better thanRussell because he looks suspicious (and angry) and it makes Murdoc feel uneasy.

"The hell are y'doin' out here, Russ?" he asks, masking his nervousness with belligerence and he crosses his arms. "Who the fuck were you talkin' to, anyway? Yer mum?"

Russell narrows his eyes and purses his lips, posture turning aggressive. Murdoc shrinks back a bit at the sudden change in atmosphere, holding himself with his arms. He flinches when Russell opens his mouth to speak.

"I was talkin' to Del."

Murdoc is taken aback by that news, his nervousness really starting to show and he tries to force it down.

"Since when have you been able to talk with him when you're awake? Didn' think he could come out unless y'were fucked up or konk'd out or somethin'."

Russell doesn't look amused and his expression doesn't change. So much for casual conversation.

"He's always with me, Murdoc. He talks in my head an' I provide my answers verbally. Helps with adjustin' to the change and whatnot."

The bassist doesn't like the drummer's cold tone or the judgment in his white eyes. He feels like he's being sentenced to death and he scratches at his wrists in a sign of anxiety.

"...Ookaay..." Murdoc says, shrugging as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. He meets Russell's glare and his own expression hardens, a rock forming in the pit of his stomach. "Why the fuck were y'two talkin' in the doorway? Don't y'got better places to be than out here?"

Russell crosses his arms and his glare turns scathing, almost hateful, and Murdoc has a faint sense that whatever the drummer has to say, it won't be good.

For him personally.

"Del tol' me that when I was nappin', he saw you in 'D's room."

The color drains from Murdoc's face and he freezes, expressionless, his eyes devoid of emotion.

He can't find his voice.

Russell sighs in irritation and stalks up to the shorter man, his blank eyes staring straight into Murdoc's.

"What were you doin' in there?"

Murdoc is aware that his face flushing but he covers up his discomfort by snapping in anger.

"None of your fucking business, poncho" he snarls, baring his teeth and he stands on his toes to gain some height. "How about you tell that fuckin' shadow of yours to stop snoopin' around and keep outta my space."

Russell doesn't back down, snarling and pushes Murdoc away with a hand to his chest. The bassist coughs at the impact and rubs at his chest painfully.

"He also said you were in his bed."

The bassist bites his inner cheek indigently, body hot and he hisses in a sharp breath.

"So what if I was?" he snaps, taking the drummer by surprise with his affirmation. "That don't mean anything, alright?"

Russell shakes off his bewilderment and scoffs.

"Whatever, man. Jus' don't be doin' anythin' that'll get us all in a fuckin' jam."

Murdoc's face is practically scarlet and his eyes are wide.

"What the fuck would I be doing?" he hisses, feeling the desperate need to defend himself and set everything straight.

Russell just shakes his head and frowns.

"I gotta feeling we both know the answer to that, Muds."

And with that, he leaves.

Murdoc is left standing there, mouth agape, at a loss for words. His nerves are shot and he can't stop staring at the retreating figure in the doorway.

He resists the urge to scream in return, his mouth is trembling and he lifts his shaking hands to pull at his hair. His eyes dart around the carpark and he storms in the direction of his Winnebago, tripping over himself, feeling a sense of dread and panic settle in his chest.

His breathing starts to accelerate and he feels himself start to perspire.

_What the fuck just happened._

oOo


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

(**NOTE**: this part takes place directly after last chapter)

oOo

Murdoc has no idea what just happened. And how could he? The whole conversation between him and Russell had gone by so quickly that he's having a hard time remembering what had sparked it in the first place.

Slumped in the Winnebago's dirty kitchenette, Murdoc scrapes and pinches and scratches at his arms in an attempt to alleviate his stress and to give himself some sort of a distraction.

(It doesn't work.)

_There's no way that Russell knows._

He keeps telling himself that. Because there's no way that Russell knows. Absolutely no way, and he'll be damned if anyone tells him otherwise.

_Except... the look in Russell's eyes..._

The look that was in those white eyes of his was so accusatory and menacing that even now Murdoc is having a hard time sorting out his thoughts. He almost wants to go find Russell and hit him over the head with something blunt, just to relieve the tension he feels inside. Of course, that wouldn't end well for him and it would only prove that the drummer's suspicions were correct.

Whatever those suspicions were.

oOo

Murdoc can feel eyes on him at all times. No matter where he goes or what he's doing he feels himself being watched. He doesn't know who or what is watching him but he knows it isn't normal.

He can feel fingers grazing his skin in the middle of the night (normal) he can hear the humming even when he's sober (troubling) and he knows who it's supposed to be (even worse).

But the eyes aren't his. The eyes watching him don't belong to the singer because there's a sort of hatred lying beneath them. A sense of distrust, anger, all negative with no hopes of letting up.

Murdoc can feel eyes on him.

oOo

((days later))

Walking down the hallway is always an adventure and it never ceases to amaze him how incredibly silent it can be at night.

Step, step, step...echo, echo, echo. And repeat.

He just keeps walking past empty and closed-off rooms in hopes of reaching the kitchen in one piece, his footsteps drowning out any ill feelings he may be having at the moment.

Step, step, step...echo, echo, echo.

And a step that isn't his own.

When a slender finger taps against his shoulder Murdoc stiffens and sucks in a sharp breath, squeezing his eyes shut. He knows who the finger belongs to without even looking, and he knows that with every tentative poke there'll be a question attached.

"...Is there somethin' goin' on with you, Muds?"

Murdoc turns slowly, body stiff and he feigns ignorance. He tilts his head a bit and crosses his arms, tapping his fingers against his forearms impatiently.

"What're goin' on about, 'D?"

2D mirrors Murdoc's posture with his own crossed arms, narrowed eyes (at least Murdoc thinks he's narrowing his eyes) and pursed lips. He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn't. He looks like he's expecting _Murdoc_ to say something, but he doesn't. They're both just standing there, staring at each other and Murdoc forgets why he's even in the halls.

What had he been doing?

After a few minutes of silent staring, Murdoc begins to squirm.

"What the fuck do you want?" he hisses, squaring his shoulders in hopes of gaining some height. 2D doesn't so much as flinch, his expression hardening.

"You've been really off, Murdoc." he drones, shoving his hands into his pockets with a resigned shrug. "It's been like this since y'came to my room the other day all drunk n'stuff."

Murdoc digs his heels into the floor and snarls, turning around abruptly. He stalks off in the direction he was originally headed in and he can hear 2D scrambling behind him. In a matter of seconds the singer is right next to him, lanky form casting a shadow over him in the hall's dank lighting.

"Murdoc." he says again, his voice pitchy and urgent, insistent and fearful. "C'mon, mate- if I did something wrong, I'm-"

"Shut up." Murdoc snaps, cutting 2D off mid-sentence and he ignores whatever the singer was about to say. He doesn't slow his stride, growing more irritated as the singer continues to speak and all he really wants right now is a drink. 2D falters in his steps a bit, surprise in his eyes and he looks apprehensive. He quickly catches up to the bassist and grabs his arm, pulling.

"Murdoc, are you mad at me or somethin'?" he asks, his grip tightening enough to make the bassist come to a halt. Murdoc grits his teeth and growls low in his chest, eye twitching.

"Fuck off." he snarls, trying his damnedest to snatch his arm out of the singer's grip but he can't. The idiot's hand is huge and wraps around his arm without any trouble, locking him in place. "Let go of me, you fuckin' twat."

2D's nose scrunches at the rude name but he doesn't let go.

"You're doin' it now, Murdoc!" he hisses, expression going from desperate to livid in a matter of seconds. It makes Murdoc freeze up a bit, not expecting that sort of look to cross the singer's face and he's taken aback by it. "Y'been avoidin' me for the past couple of days. I would'a thought nothin' of it if y'weren't acting like such a fuckin' dick."

That strikes a nerve within Murdoc and he yanks at his arm again- still to no avail and he has to force himself not to scream in frustration.

"Y'better watch that damn mouth of yours, Tusspot." he snarls, using their close proximity to his advantage as he takes a fistful of the singer's shirt in his free hand, shaking him violently. "S'gonna get you into trouble someday."

"Sod off." 2D growls indigently, taking hold of the bassist's other wrist and pries the hand off of his shirt.

Well.

Murdoc's in a bit of jam now, isn't he? Both hands captured in the grip of 2D, of all people. And it doesn't matter how strong the bassist (thinks he) is or how weak (he thinks) the singer is because the only thing that'll be able to break 2D's vice grip is a fucking natural disaster.

And what is Murdoc's problem, anyway? It isn't like he has a grudge against 2D. He's not even mad at him. Not at all.

He's scared.

He tugs at his arms harshly, jostling the singer a bit but it isn't enough to free himself.

"Let me go. I mean it, 2D."

2D sighs and does just that, opting to cross his arms over his chest with a pout. Which, of course, Murdoc finds very charming. Begrudgingly so.

"Sorry." the singer mumbles, tapping his long fingers against his arm anxiously. "S'just that, you're not the only one actin' funny, y'know? Russ is too. He keeps givin' me weird looks and he keeps actin' super... cautious."

Murdoc doesn't say anything to that, he just chews on his lip and leans back on his heels.

2D stares at him for a second, expression becoming more grave. "Did...did somethin' happen with you guys?" he asks, fidgeting with his fingers a bit absentmindedly. "Are y'two fightin' again?"

Murdoc desperately wants to tell 2D to shove off, but he knows where that'll land him.

He's going soft.

"Don't mind your pretty little head about it, dullard." he finally sighs, shaking his head and he rakes a hand through his greasy mop of hair. "It ain't a big deal."

2D looks like he wants to argue but he doesn't. He just stares at Murdoc apprehensively, mulling over what he said and nods slowly.

"...Okay."

The two of them stare at each other for a few seconds before Murdoc sighs and begins walking in the direction of the kitchen once again.

This time, 2D doesn't follow.

oOo

((later))

It's soggy out.

That's the only word fitting enough to describe the dreary conditions outside.

Soggy.

And it's dark. He knows it's a bit of a risk to be outside this late, but the landfill is quiet for once and he wants a change of scenery.

It isn't nearly as cold as it had been, but he still shudders in the rain. His cigarette is wet, his hands are shaky and he snarls when the light on the end goes out. Again.

"Fuck."

He tosses the cigarette on the ground, crushes it under is boot next to the others and pulls out another. He lights it quickly, inhales slowly and exhales even slower. He sighs in contentment and closes his eyes

He doesn't have time to react when a hand lands on his shoulder.

"How many are you at-?"

"-FUCK!" the bassist shouts in surprise, eyes snapping open and he jumps, nearly toppling over himself with the motion. The grip on his shoulder immediately retracts itself and his cigarette drops to the ground. He clutches at his chest and whips his head around to glare at the singer, baring his teeth.

"Don't soddin' sneak up on people like, y'bloomin' idiot." he snaps, the grip on his chest tightening in desperation for breath. "Y'tryin' t'kill me off or somethin'?"

2D looks apologetic and rubs his arm nervously.

"Oh, uh..sorry, Muds." he laughs, scratching his cheek. "...Y'okay?"

"I'm fine." he drawls and rolls his eyes, officially giving up on his nicotine fixation. "Y'followin' me?"

"I guess." 2D grins, shrugging. He pauses and his smile fades a bit, turning into a pensive frown. "I..felt sorta bad about how we left things earlier. I never really...said sorry for bein'..."

Murdoc rolls his eyes once more and clicks his tongue, giving 2D pause.

"Don't apologize, 'D." the bassist sighs, drumming his fingers against his thigh frantically. He stuffs his hands in his pockets when he realizes how fidgety he's being and averts his gaze. "I'll admit that I was actin' like a right nob earlier. Not gonna apologize myself, but, hey. Now you know that I'm aware."

2D smiles a bit and tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear, fiddling with his jacket.

He looks as if he wants to speak but he doesn't.

Murdoc opens his mouth to say something but he's cut off by a violent shiver shooting up his spine, wracking entire his frame. 2D's eyes widen a bit and he scrambles for the zipper of his jacket, pulling at it desperately. He quickly removes it and holds it out to the shorter man in offering.

Murdoc looks at the jacket critically- a bright red wind-breaker with white stripes- and scrunches his broken nose in distaste.

"I'm not wearin' that, mate."

2D scoffs.

"Jus' wear it, Murdoc." he insists, jutting his arm out a couple of times to accentuate his point. "C'mon, I jus' saw y'shiver. I don't think y'even have a coat anymore."

Murdoc wants to argue but 2D's right for once- he doesn't have a jacket anymore.

(Long story short, it was stolen.)

(By someone.)

(The Geep doesn't have a top and he thinks it might've been someone from the bar.)

He shakes off that thought and growls, grabbing the jacket wordlessly. He shoves his arms through the sleeves and he ignores how fucking big it is on him. Length-wise, that is. He has to roll the ends of the sleeves up twice so his hands are able to show.

"I look like a ponce, don't I?"

2D laughs and bites his lip, shoulders quaking with stifled chortles. Murdoc sends him a vicious glare and he immediately sobers up, mouth forming a straight line. He stares at the bassist for a second more before a genuine smile crosses his face.

"Y'look great, actually." he comments, rubbing his chin in thought. "S'funny, though. Makes y'look kinda green."

"I get that a lot." Murdoc says drily, folding his arms over his chest.

The jacket is quite warm, though. And it smells really good.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like a bad thing or nothin'."

"Whatever."

A peaceful silence passes between the two of them after that, and it lasts for a few minutes before Murdoc coughs uncomfortably.

"Should probably go back inside, huh?" he asks. 2D nods wordlessly and Murdoc heads towards the door. He motions for the singer to follow.

"C'mon, Stu."

2D's footsteps are immediate behind him, landing heavy and wet against the soggy flooring.

"Yeah."

They walk next to each other through the halls in silence. They never speak, they never say where they're going, but Murdoc goes on the assumption that they're going to go to the carpark, go to their respective living spaces and do whatever it is they normally do.

Drink, jerk off, sleep. Repeat if need be.

That's Murdoc's plan, at least.

Step, step, step...echo, echo, echo. And repeat.

Their arms brush against one another's as they walk, but neither of them move to provide space.

The friction is comfortable and familiar.

oOo


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**warning:** this one features a _weird _hallucination. nothing too horrible tho don't worry (i mean it doesn't freak me out so) drug induced? only i know the answer to this.

oOo

((withdrawl))

Rain pelts incessantly against the outer walls of Kong as the inhabitants continue to sleep. It creates a continuous rhythmic beat as a dull roar settles into the background, lulling and coaxing those around it into a deep sense of peace.

Murdoc can't hear any of it.

Barely asleep, he drifts in and out of consciousness and sighs tiredly through his nose. Clad in only a pair of briefs and 2D's jacket, he presses his face into his shirt-sleeves and inhales deeply.

In, and...

...out.

He breathes in the potent scent of his singer, cloudy mind drifting off even further as his brain begins to shut down. In the silence of early dawn, he allows himself this small sense of bliss.

There's a loud rumbling just overhead and his muscles clench involuntarily, stirring him from his haze. A clap of thunder sounds sharply against the outer-building and he falls to the floor in a startled heap.

"_Shit_." he hisses, tangled and lost in his stained sheets and he has to kick his legs several times in order to free himself. "**_Satan!_**"

Having successfully escaped the sheet's evil clutches, Murdoc claws at his bed and drags himself to his feet, disoriented and sore.

_Overdid it again_, he chastises himself. _Should'a kept at it._

He stumbles a bit and nearly trips, gripping desperately at the nearest surface in an attempt to balance himself. His hair hangs limply in his face, obscuring his already blurry vision and when he straightens himself out he brushes it away from his eyes. His arms are lost within 2D's jacket-sleeves, jumbled, and he struggles to roll them up.

The rain is loud now, falling harder and Murdoc knows that the power is going to fail soon. He wraps his arms around himself tightly and mutters something under his breath, padding over to his door. He opens it slowly and across the lot he can see shadows dancing.

Almost un-recognizable shapes move and sway across the walls and he nearly slams the door shut again when he sees something standing just outside of 2D's room. He squints his eyes, trying to focus them enough to see the figure properly. Something in the back of his head is telling him to look away, _to stop staring_ but of course he's going to ignore it.

The figure is long, lean, lanky and for a second he thinks he knows who it is.

"Stuart?" he asks, hesitant and in his tired state he forgets to put his guard up. The figure's back is to him still, too dark to make out any specific details and when it doesn't respond Murdoc calls over again. "'D?"

Its head bobs gently and it raises an inhumanly frail arm, audibly snapping under the pressure of movement. It turns its head slowly_,_ bones cracking in its neck sickeningly and _okay that's definitely not 2D._

Murdoc feels his breath hitch in his throat and his blood runs cold.

Those eyes.

They're hollow sockets, devoid of light and emotion, seeming lifeless but they hold his gaze effortlessly. It doesn't have a mouth but the bottom of its face sags and the skin there strains as if it were crying out in pain- as if it were attempting to break through the flesh that prevents it from doing so. Its skin is a disgusting pasty yellow, peeling around a sunken nose and the sparse hairs on its head are a deathly gray. Almost blue.

It blinks once and Murdoc knows that his life is over. In an instant the figure is kneeling, crawling, its joints moving at impossible angles and he's frozen where he stands. He can't blink, he needs to cover his eyes and when he does nothing touches him.

Removing his hand from his face he sees nothing. No figure making its way over to him. No impostors lurking outside of 2D's door.

His heart beats heavy in his chest and he slinks back into his Winnebago without a sound, locking the door shut behind him.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, he zips 2D's jacket up and wraps himself in it tighter. He has to remind himself that he's seen worse things in his life and he ignores the urge to scream.

oOo

It's isn't uncomfortable.

But he could do without the murmuring below the silence. The reverberating hums echoing in his brain, bouncing off the inside of his skull and making his eyes dart around the room.

He could do without all of that.

oOo

((darkness))

Quiet.

The room has fallen to a soft hush and there's a mute buzzing coming from the light overhead. The sensation is so _real _and so _physical_ that he can almost feel it in his head, behind his eyes and pressing against his teeth.

Sitting adjacent to 2D on the couch Murdoc rests his chin in his open palm and he glances up at the singer through the corner of his eye. The television blares meaningless-jargon into the room through the speakers, doing absolutely nothing to soothe the strange alertness Murdoc feels.

But.

_Alert_ isn't really the right word to characterize his current mental state. Mere words can't even begin to describe how he's feeling right now. An attempt at doing so would be to say that he's feeling _anxious_ or _fearful,_ but even more so. It's more ingrained.

It's more striking.

He doesn't dare take his eyes off of 2D. He can tell that 2D notices the attention he's giving him but Murdoc can't bring himself to stop. His eyes trace the planes of 2D's gentle face, across his smile and down the curve of his back. He looks _everywhere_ just so he can be sure that he's really seeing the singer. 2D shifts his weight a bit and Murdoc takes a chance, scooting himself closer to the other.

To keep a better watch? Of course.

2D stares off at the television screen dully, never blinking, never moving, hair falling into his face when his head gives the faintest twitch and Murdoc's eyes follow_._Silky-blue strands settle against the singer's pale cheek, barely obscuring the bassist's view of his profile and without thinking about it he reaches up and tucks it behind the taller man's ear.

2D looks down at him in confusion, eyebrows raised in a silent question but he doesn't seem to be bothered by it. Murdoc looks off to the side, lowering his hand into his lap without a word, keeping quiet. 2D continues to look at him, a small frown pulling at the corners of his mouth and he chews on his lip in thought.

"...Y'doin' alright', Muds?"

He leans his weight against Murdoc's side as he asks this, a thoughtless action, purely out of the compelling need to comfort. Murdoc feels it and he buries the blissful satisfaction blooming in his chest, killing off the urge to smile before it has a chance to form.

He hums softly in reply, a noncommittal answer but it's the best he can provide. He raises his hand again and places it on 2D's knee, squeezing it once. Nothing suggestive, just an self-assuring gesture.

It's sweet and 2D doesn't question it.

"...Are you sure?" he asks, pressing the matter tentatively. "Y'seem a bit.._quiet_, yeah?"

Murdoc sighs through his nose and retracts his hand, combing it through his hair in an attempt to ignore the question.

"..Muds?"

Murdoc grumbles to himself and nudges 2D's side irritably, moving away from him a bit to provide space.

"I'm _fine._" he sighs in exasperation, glaring up at the singer through his fringe but it isn't really genuine. His mismatched eyes aren't angry and there's a disconnect between their intensity and the expression on his face.

2D's shoulders slump a bit and he frowns.

"...Alrigh', if you say so."

And it's back to the silent staring.

Murdoc begins to fidget despite himself and now he just wants to get up and leave. He wants to leave the singer behind, to curse at him for pressing into private matters but he can't.

2D sends him a _look_, brows arched and he adjusts his position on the couch so that he's sitting with his back pressed against the armrest, arms wrapped around his legs. The epitome of casual concern.

If there were such a thing, of course.

"Murdoc." he sighs, his voice _gentle_\- gentle enough to crack the bassist's resolve and Murdoc ceases his erratic movements. 2D looks as if he's trying to piece together a complicated thought, his unsure expression veiled with frustration. "...Listen, mate- I know that m'not.. the smartest, or the most _observant _bloke around. But... you're m'best friend... an' I _know_ that somethin's botherin' you."

Murdoc's fingers twitch and something in his chest constricts. He's facing the singer fully now, gruff exterior completely _shattered_ and for a moment he struggles to piece it back together.

Not like it matters, though.

His chest his tight, his throat is tighter and he doesn't trust his voice.

He takes a shuddering breath and turns away from the singer, lowering his face into his hands and he rubs his eyes. 2D makes a questioning sound in the back of his throat, a broken attempt to verbalize his confusion.

The bassist mutters to himself before he lifts his face from his hands and looks over at the singer again. 2D is staring at him attentively, making no move to speak.

Before Murdoc can say anything the overhead light ceases its buzzing and it begins to flicker and twitch. It blinks, sporadically at first and it suddenly _dies_, shrouding the two of them in darkness.

Murdoc lets out a distressed groan, kicking his heel against the floor in aggravation.

"...Looks like the power's out, Muds." the singer says suddenly, his voice _much closer_ than it had been before and it makes the bassist jump in his seat.

"_Stop fucking doing that_." he snaps, elbowing 2D roughly, evoking a pained gasp from the other man. 2D coughs a few times and lets out a small groan.

"Sorry." he wheezes, voice pitched up in discomfort and Murdoc can hear the rustling of his shirt as he rubs at his stomach. "I didn' mean t'scare you."

Murdoc grunts in reply and shakes his head, scowling. An uncomfortable moment of silence passes before 2D clears his throat.

"...What should we do?" he asks softly, voice but a raised whisper in the silent room. Murdoc shrugs but it goes unnoticed by 2D.

For obvious reasons.

A feeling of unease begins to settle in the pit of Murdoc's stomach and despite the fact that he's wearing 2D's jacket, he feels cold.

"...Muds?"

Murdoc sighs and grips at the couch cushion, tapping his foot in irritation.

"Not much we _can_ do, face ache."

It's quiet for a moment before he feels 2D shift a bit in his spot.

"...So, we're just gonna stay out here?"

"Looks like it."

More silence.

"...Okay."

oOo

They never moved off of the couch.

He doesn't know how _long_ they've been sitting there but he knows it's been a while. He wonders, vaguely, when Noodle and Russell will be back from doing whatever errands they went out to do. What the plan will be to get Kong up and running again.

But, in the deepest crevices and corners of his heart, he hopes that they won't be returning anytime soon. Because although he likes having electricity and running water, it's also really nice sitting in peaceful silence with 2D.

Listening to him talk, to him breathe and laugh, feeling him press against his side in the dark confines of their shared space.

His eyes have long since adjusted to the dark room, and he knows that due to 2D's poor eyesight the singer is still completely lost in the dark.

But he doesn't want this moment to end, so he doesn't say anything.

"I wonder where the others are."

Of course, 2D has to ruin it.

oOo

((later))

Venturing out into the halls in the middle of a storm was a horrible and imprudent idea and Murdoc has no one to blame but himself.

He had forgotten about those sinister twins lurking in the outer-reaches of the recording studio. He had also forgotten that the zombies from the landfill are one-hundred-percent capable of entering Kong of their own accord.

He had forgotten both of those things and now he's paying for it. And, of course, he isn't alone.

2D is with him.

Which makes the whole situation worse. Substantially worse, and it's because trying to find a hiding space that'll fit two people is really fucking hard.

Ducking down narrow hallways and through trash infested passages, the two men come across a familiar- albeit _small_\- closet and they both force themselves inside without a second thought. Yanking the door closed, the two are smashed uncomfortably together and if Murdoc wasn't so terrified of what was lurking just beyond the door he'd be in the midst of fighting off an erection.

His face is currently at level with 2D's chest, the singer's crotch is pressing into his abdomen firmly and _okay scratch that_ he's enjoying himself far too much for it to be healthy.

"This feels strangely familiar." 2D whispers against Murdoc's forehead, softly, frame rigid and Murdoc almost chokes on his spit because he misunderstands the reference.

"_What?_" he splutters, trying and failing to launch himself away from the other's reach. Of course, that's impossible to do in their small closet space and it only results in him smacking his head sharply against the wall behind him.

"_Murdoc!_" 2D yelps, forgetting to keep his voice down and he clamps a hand over his mouth in panic. Silence continues to stretch outside the door and he uncovers his mouth, seeming cautious and he heaves a sigh. "Are you okay?"

"Aside from killing braincells that the alcohol didn't already take care of, I'm just _peachy_." Murdoc snaps, rubbing the back of his head painfully.

He's drawing a blank.

"..What were we talking about?"

2D lets out a short laugh and Murdoc can feel him shake his head.

"Nothin', mate."

He knows that the singer is lying but he shrugs in acceptance.

They fall silent after that, only exchanging words when absolutely necessary and they feel safe for the most part. At least, _Murdoc_ feels safe. He's feeling wholly at peace until he hears a loud stomping in the distance. There's no voice attached to it, nothing to give him a clue as to what might be coming for them- just heavy feet against the floor and dull thuds following.

The sounds of bodies hitting the floor. They're drawing closer.

Before Murdoc has a chance to speak the door is suddenly yanked open from the other side. He lets out a horrified shriek and throws himself into the singer's open arms, his own arms wrapping tightly around 2D's neck and shoulders. 2D joins in with his screaming and they clutch at each other desperately, nearly toppling over themselves in their ridiculous display. This goes on for a good ten-seconds before Murdoc realizes that he's still in one piece and still very much alive.

An awkward, throaty cough resounds from the doorway and when Murdoc finally opens his eyes he's face to face with Russell. And the lights are back on.

The three of them remain stock-still, the faint groaning in the background quickly turning into background-noise and Murdoc is having a hard time regulating his heart-rate. Russell is the first to break the silence, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

"Nice hiding space."

The arms around Murdoc's waist tighten their hold a bit and 2D lets out a relieved laugh.

"Oh my _God_ I thought we were gonna die!" he cries out, turning the fearful embrace into a hug and he buries his face in Murdoc's neck. His laughter is on the brink of hysterics but it never really gets there.

"...Yeah." Murdoc grunts, eyes locked with Russell's.

Russell purses his lips and raises a brow meaningfully at Murdoc, shaking his head slowly. "Nice jacket."

He shakes his head once more and leaves it at that, abandoning the pair in awkward silence. Murdoc's jaw is slack and his frame is rigid.

**_Shit._**

He'd forgotten that he was still wearing 2D's jacket. Before he has a chance to realize just how compromising their position _really is_ he's slowly being lowered to his feet. 2D cracks him a smile and shrugs.

"You can keep it."

oOo


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**note:** i edited this a bit! looked it over and saw some horrendous grammar issues that I couldn't take anymore.

(small edits made on August 22, 2015)

oOo

In his bed Murdoc sprawls, flat on his back, stark naked with the sleeve of 2D's jacket clutched firmly in his grasp. He drifts, falls and lets out a loud drawn-out snore the moment sleep begins to overtake him. A tattered blanket drapes over his bony legs, barely succeeding in containing the minimal warmth he occasionally radiates.

And now, he's asleep.

_Tap._

A soft metallic thump sounds against his door. Just once, but it's enough to make the bassist stir. His eyes twitch, still closed in a desperate attempt to stave off consciousness. Stale air swirls around his room, broken electrical fan circulating it lazily and he breathes heavily through his mouth.

_Tap tap._

Two more thumps hit his door tentatively- a half-hearted pattern, volume just a touch louder than the previous rap. His fingers twitch and he grinds his teeth, awakening from his slumber. The heavy fabric of his blanket feels hot against his skin, and in a fit of irritation he kicks the material off of himself.

_Tap tap tap._

His eyes snap open and he struggles to sit up, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The other hand gripping the jacket sleeve tightens its hold and he pulls it up towards himself, sliding his arms through the sleeves in preparation.

_Tap tap tap _**_tap._**

Sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth, Murdoc gets to his feet and slips on a pair of briefs that he finds strewn on the floor. In a few short steps he's over at the door and with a swift kick it's off its hinges, flimsy metal making contact with the poor sod standing outside his Winnebago.

"_AUGH!_" is the pained cry that comes from the door's fallen victim- obviously familiar and it's a wonder that Murdoc didn't realize who it was the moment the first tap hit the door.

He just stands there_,_ dumbstruck, not knowing what to do or say as he stares down blankly at 2D. The slightest trickle of blood escapes the other's nostril and Murdoc feels his stomach drop in remorse.

"Wha-?"

"-H-hey, Muds." 2D says pathetically, grinning through his pain with a hand pressed to his nose. His words come out sounding muffled, barely decipherable but it's obvious what he's saying.

Murdoc hasn't moved yet.

2D shifts his weight from one foot to the other, smile wavering as the silence drags on. "...You're awake, I see."

Still, nothing.

The singer removes his hand from his nose and sniffs once, wiping at it with the back of his hand messily. The blood doesn't really _stop_, but the flow isn't heavy. Murdoc finally gets the feeling back in his legs and not a moment later he's at 2D's side, making a show of reluctancy as he leads him into his Winnebago.

"Shit, 'D- what in the hell are y'doin' out here?" he asks, forgetting his earlier annoyance at being woken up and is overtaken by the need to get the blood off of 2D's face. The singer in question just shrugs, long legs carrying him into the mobile home with little trouble and he plants himself in the nearest chair with a sigh.

"Dunno." he says, rubbing his cheek in consideration. "I was lonely, I guess."

Murdoc doesn't want to smile at that. He's not going to.

"Mm."

After rifling through every cupboard and cabinet within arms reach, Murdoc finally finds an old musty roll of paper towels- partially stained, chewed up by God knows what it's but mostly okay. He tears off a piece of the dank paper, dabs it with water and hands it to the singer with feigned indifference.

"Wipe your face, 'D. You're a mess."

2D gives him a grateful smile and takes the dripping paper towel from Murdoc's hand, wiping his nose and lips tenderly. He winces a few times when too much pressure is applied, nose already turning purple and bruised but he doesn't make a scene of it.

Murdoc rocks on his heels, feeling unusually bare despite the fact that he's been in in far more revealing apparel while in the presence of his singer. Darting his eyes around the room and focusing his attention on a particularly interesting stain on the wall, Murdoc decides to speak.

"Sorry for busting your face, mate."

2D looks a bit surprised, eyes widening and his brows disappear under his bangs. He looks thoughtful, rubbing his bruised nose gently and stifles a hiss. Despite that, he's smiling at Murdoc with full force.

"S'okay, Muds."

The bassist nods slowly and chews on his lip in thought, moistening it with the tip of his tongue before speaking again.

"...Does it hurt?"

The singer nods in return, scrunching the used paper towel in his fist indifferently, waving his other hand around in the air in an attempt to drive the attention away from his face.

"Yeah." he says offhandedly, crossing his legs and leans an elbow against his knee casually. He grins, pink tongue peeking between the gap in his teeth and he wiggles brows in a mockery of suggestion. "But I've had worse."

Letting out a snort, Murdoc leans his weight back against the counter behind him and props himself up with his elbows.

"True." he laughs, the heel of his bare foot tapping against the floor lazily. He pauses, eyes downcast. "...We should get some ice for your nose, though."

2D nods slowly in agreement and gets to his feet, eyeing the bassist unsurely. Murdoc feels the look as he shoves himself off the edge of the countertop.

"What?" he asks, reaching over and grabbing a pair of ratty blue-jeans off of the floor. He slips them on, struggling a bit to get his foot through the first leg-hole. 2D shrugs in response, laughing, watching as Murdoc slides his bare feet into his cuban heeled boots.

With a shake of his head, 2D smiles.

"Nothin'. Jus' a bit surprised that you're comin' along is all."

His voice is slightly distorted in thanks to his newly bruised nose and he makes his way for the door as quickly as possible- reaching an arm out, pushing it open as wide as the doorframe will allow. One step down and he's on the ground, waiting for the bassist's descent.

Clambering down the broken Winnebago steps, Murdoc rolls his eyes and huffs haughtily.

"I'm _comin' along_ purely for moral support." he says with a grin, tone oozing sarcasm despite its well-hidden honesty. After a moments pause (and a disbelieving look from the singer) Murdoc's grin grows wider.

oOo

((later))

The burning sensation of alcohol running down an impossibly parched throat always seems to gradually soften when company is involved in the process. It always goes down a lot smoother, too.

Perched clumsily upon the crusty kitchen tabletop, Murdoc nurses a bottle of rum and watches on as 2D runs about the grimy cluttered room. He's searching around for _God knows what_, soaking-wet rag pressed haphazardly to his nose and a hand cups loosely beneath it to catch any drops of water that might escape.

Murdoc grins at the other's spastic display, setting his bottle off to the side with a heartfelt sigh. He kicks his legs back and forth vigorously, heels knocking against the cabinets below just a tad too rough. It makes unnecessary noise and he chortles to himself in amusement, feeling very much like a hyperactive child and he doesn't have the mental capacity to feel ashamed of it.

2D raises a brow and lowers the rag from his nose, grinning crookedly at the other man.

"Havin' fun there, I see."

Murdoc rolls his eyes and kicks his heels against the broken wood once more before finally ceasing his movement.

"Y'gonna sit down or what?" he asks dryly, drumming his fingers impatiently against the tabletop.

2D shrugs and takes his place next to Murdoc, opting to stand rather than sit and risk breaking the already splintering table.

Murdoc attempts to hand the singer his bottle of rum, smile returning to his face when their close proximity is regained. When he doesn't receive an immediate response he nudges the bottle against the 2D's bony chest.

"Drink away the pain, mate." he insists, sharp grin growing impossibly wide across his face. "S'good for you, trust me."

"I dunno about that, Muds." 2D laughs, finally taking the bottle into his hands and he grips the neck tightly. It's not a moment later that he's taking a deep sip, expression languid and he lets out a contented sigh.

A pause.

"But s'not so bad, s'long as you're here."

oOo

He's in the washroom when the dark sound of heavy footsteps meet his ears. It starts off distant, growing progressively closer as a feeling of dread settles in the pit of his stomach.

They're angry.

They're ominous.

They're filled with a purpose so fierce that he's momentarily floored, frozen where he stands and he forgets why he's even in the washroom.

Wasn't there something that he needed to take care of?

The echo of footfalls reverberate around him, emanating from just outside the open door and he doesn't really question _why_ they're headed in his direction.

They just _are_.

Suddenly- (and there isn't much time between _then_ and _now_)- an oversized hand clamps itself onto his shoulder and he's being shoved roughly against a nearby wall. His head smacks sharply against the hard plaster from behind and the impact of his back knocking against a sink winds him.

His eyes are squeezed shut in pain, tight enough that he can actually see the veins of his lids mixing with angry stars and when he finally decides to open them he's staring into white eyes.

Nostrils flared, mouth set into a snarl, thick eyebrows scrunched together- Russell's the picture of rage and he looks absolutely _murderous_. He bares his teeth, lowers his face to Murdoc's level and the bassist feels himself start to perspire.

"_What the fuck_ _happened t'D_?"

_...What?_

A moments pause.

_...Oh_, the bassist thinks to himself, swallowing the lump forming in his throat, knees shaking. _He's seen D's dressings, huh?_

He attempts to pry the drummer's fist off the front of his shirt, but it's to no avail. Murdoc hardens his gaze and he squares his shoulders, determined to keep his stony demeanor in place in spite of his quivering spine.

"He made friends with the door of my Winnie, _that's _what." he hisses, breath hitching in his throat when Russell's grip tightens. "_Let go of me_!"

But he doesn't let go.

"...So you're tellin' me that you _did_ have somethin' t'do with it." the drummer snarls, posture growing more hostile as the seconds drag on. Murdoc's eyes widen at the accusation and he struggles in Russell's hold, scrambling for an answer that'll potentially save him.

Shaking his head frantically, he digs his nails into the larger man's hand as he tries to formulate a coherent sentence. To his horror, all he manages to let out is a strangled whimper and his breathing grows haggard.

Russell continues to stare into Murdoc's frightened eyes a moment longer before his angry expression falls.

Now he looks confused.

_He looks resigned._

"...Y'send out a lot of mixed signals, Murdoc." he says, sighing in defeat as his grip on the smaller man's shirt loosens. He sounds tired, a serious frown pulling at the corners of his mouth and he looks utterly lost. "Everythin' y'do and say is a contradiction."

He removes his hands from the bassist completely, taking two steps backwards in order to provide a semblance of personal space. Murdoc makes a move to speak but he's cut off.

"...Y'don't gotta go explainin' t'me what's goin' on between the two of you. I get it." he says, resolve is unwavering. "I'm glad that y'two are finally gettin' on."

Murdoc feels his face burn in mortification, ashy complexion turning copper in embarrassment as their "conversation" takes a new turn.

"Russ-"

"-**_No_**, Murdoc." Russell snarls, eyes turning wild. "Listen, I _get_ it. Honestly, it's fuckin' painful to _watch_ you sometimes, let alone listen to you try and deny it. It's pathetic."

Murdoc frowns and crosses his arms over his chest protectively, chewing his inner cheek to keep himself from saying the wrong thing.

"...What are you talkin' about?"

Humorless laughter. An angry shake of the head. And just as suddenly as it started, the laughter stops.

"You know _damn well_ what I'm talkin' about, Murdoc." the drummer snaps, sharp tone sending another jolt of fear down the bassist's spine without fail. "Don't start assumin' that I'm stupid or blind. I have eyes and I can _see_ the way you been lookin' at 'D."

The fear that Murdoc feels is overshot with nausea- he feels clammy and feint, heart beating hard and fast in his chest.

He feels like he's going to throw up.

"Up until now I thought it was just you bein' a sick bastard. Starin' at the kid when his back was turned, like some fuckin' rabid _dog_."

A pause.

"...But..now I know I was mistaken."

He doesn't say anything else after that.

oOo

_Russell knows._

oOo


	21. Chapter 20 - Discretion

**Chapter 20- Standoff: Discretion**

(**note 1:** the section that starts off with "the not-so-distant-past" takes place a day after last chapter. confusing, i know. sorry about that)

(**note 2**: please excuse any and all grammatical issues. i'll get to them eventually.)

(small edits made on August 22, 2015)

oOo

Immersed in stony silence, he feels nothing short of lost. The once sweet hums that echoed within the confines of his head have since turned sour, and he no longer finds comfort in the imaginary fingers rubbing into his back when his sickness becomes too much.

Everything that once gave him solace and bearing has no meaning. The sounds and sights that haunt him day in and day out only give him grief.

Holed up in his room, hands tugging painfully at his hair, Murdoc keeps asking himself the same question.

_What the fuck just happened?_

oOo

((the not-so-distant past))

Droplets of milk and cereal land against the hard, cracked table in wet splashes. They add on to the already existing, caked-on mess that takes over almost half of the table's surface. Murdoc has a hard time suppressing his gag reflex throughout the whole ordeal.

The breakfast table is disgusting.

Littered with trash and grime, smeared with indiscernible substances and stains- it's an inhabitable war-zone and most people would steer clear of its borderline toxicity. But, of course, the four band members _aren't_ most people and they continue to eat at it

And they continue to litter it with more filth until someone is forced to clean it. Usually, it's the drummer who succumbs to the need to cleanse the unsightly thing, but...

Today, that isn't the case. And that's because Russell isn't home. Not that _Murdoc_ particularly minds, seeing as the past twenty-four hours have been hard on him and he needs a damn break from his plaguing thoughts.

Murdoc leans fully against the shoddy table with a spoon sticking out of his mouth and a bowl of raisin bran sitting half-eaten in front of him. He watches young Noodle pick through her own cereal, amused, disgusted and it's almost completely silent save for the mute splatting of milky raisins hitting the tabletop.

"You're supposed to _eat_ the damn raisins, Noodle-girl." Murdoc says finally, words jumbling messily around the utensil in his mouth. The metallic clang of spoon meeting teeth obscures his words and he pulls it out with a snort. He pauses, grimacing at the trail of spit traveling down his chin and he wordlessly wipes it off with the back of his sleeve.

"They ain't decorations."

Sighing, Noodle glances up from her cereal and casts Murdoc an annoyed look before dropping her head down again. He watches her with piqued interest, not registering the angry gleam in her eyes.

"...I do not like them." she says moodily, continuing to pick them out of her breakfast with steady progression. She looks up at Murdoc again, eyes thoughtful and she brushes her thin fingers through her messy bangs.

There's a long pause and Murdoc almost thinks that Noodle's going to leave it at that before she speaks again.

"...They... _resemble_..." she says, pausing between each word and she trails off, waving a hand in the air in an attempt to find the right words.

"..._Resemble_, what?" Murdoc asks, smirk on his face and he raises a brow in amusement. Noodle groans in frustration, her little hands clenching and twitching as she struggles to speak.

She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and exhales slowly through her mouth.

"...Raisins are much like the _old people_."

Silence. Then, a snort.

Without any warning, a slender hand clamps itself onto the bassist's shoulder from behind. The sudden impact startles him, jostling him out of his thoughts and he whips his head around to find 2D doubled over in laughter. The singer clings to him, trying to stay upright and his breath comes out in wheezy gasps, wracking his frame with violent shakes.

Noodle's annoyed expression melts away instantly and a dazzling smile takes its place.

"Hello, Toochie!" she says excitedly, eyes bright and expression animated as she pushes her mushy bowl of cereal to the side. "You see Russell-sama?"

The bassist's breath hitches in his throat at the drummer's mention and he covers it up with a coughing fit.

Collecting himself and wiping a stray tear from his reddened cheeks, 2D shakes his head.

"Nah, love. I haven' seen 'im since yesterday."

Noodle frowns at his answer and taps her fingers against the tabletop in thought. She stares ahead for a few moments, emerald eyes flickering between the two men in trepidation.

"...And nose?" she asks softly, gesturing to the singer's bruised faced as if to clarify. "Is okay now?"

_Again with this_? Murdoc asks himself, sighing heavily through his mouth in annoyance. 2D moves to stand next to him and prods his nose tenderly, looking pensive.

"Yeah, I'd say so." he shrugs, seeming overall indifferent to the current state of his physical wellbeing. "Only ever hurt when the door hit my face."

Noodle hums and nods once, gentle smile returning to her face without an ounce of hesitance.

oOo

The sound of heavy thumping and muffled shouts from just below his feet pulls him from his trance. Metal wheels screeching against concrete, wires dragging from behind, 2D's curious voice inquiring as to what the hell is going on...

Russell's back.

Murdoc never _did_ get a chance to set the record straight with him yesterday. Or, at the very least, he never got a chance to beg him not to say anything to the singer about...

Well.

He doesn't really want to think about _that_.

Anxiety rises like bile in his throat and he pushes the squeamish feeling down. Forcing himself to move, he takes the lift down to the floor below and when the doors finally open he's met with an _interesting_ sight.

_Russell,_ with an armful of crate. It overflows with amplifiers and drum extensions out the wazoo.

_Noodle,_ carrying a surprising amount of musical equipment in her tiny arms- showing strength far beyond what is expected of someone her size and stature.

_2D,_ staring wide-eyed at the other two band members with a hand pressed to his mouth- either laughing or holding back a yelp, Murdoc isn't too sure.

When the others don't acknowledge his immediate presence, he decides to make himself known.

"You were out for seven hours getting _this_ crap?"

Russell's attention is instantly received.

He doesn't look too happy.

"This ain't _shit_, Murdoc. It's high-quality sound equipment that I bought with my own damn money for the benefit of _our _band."

The bassist rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue in vexation, tapping his foot impatiently against the concrete floor.

"Whatever- it's still shit."

Ignoring the impending conflict between drummer and bassist, 2D steps around the various machines and looks at them curiously. He plants his hands on his hips and leans forward, reading the labels and tags with difficulty.

"...So what's this stuff s'possed t'do, anyway?"

Russell sends the singer a grin and sets his crate down, cracking his back with a grunt.

He ignores the disgusted retch Murdoc makes in response.

"They're supposed to help enhance our sound. Has a lot of the stuff that our studio does but it's more hands on."

The bassist glances over the equipmentcritically, scrunching his nose at the unfamiliar names.

Noodle shrugs and continues on her way, having enough of being ignored and she hefts the large amount of cables and chords in her arms without struggle.

"Is easy."

2D snorts as the small girl leaves the room, goofy grin plastered to his face. He turns his attention to Murdoc for what feels like the first time in forever and his grin turns playful.

"Better t'have things more _hands on_ anyway, right Muds?"

oOo

((Several days later))

One drink leads to another.

He tosses his head back, heavy metal blaring throughout the recording studio without direction or guidance. He reclines further back than his roller-chair permits and he rests his legs against the studio mixer lazily, head swimming in his newly acquired inebriation.

When the lift sounds from off in the distance Murdoc adjusts his position in his seat. He can hear feint footfalls making their way for him and in his current state he can't tell who they belong to.

_Step, step, step..._

...A pause.

He can hear the other person trying to speak to him (their voice is high and muffled in comparison to the speaker's wailing) but the loud music only serves to overpower their efforts. Murdoc glances over to where the other person currently stands and he immediately turns the music off upon seeing their familiar hair and lanky form.

This new silence is almost deafening, feint buzz emanating from the speakers and Murdoc cracks open a new can of beer.

"What was that, face ache?"

Leaning against the door frame cautiously, 2D looks almost _nervous_. A soft smile graces his lips and he steps fully into the recording studio, fingers twitching in anticipation as he collects his thoughts.

"I was sayin' that Russ and Noods just left for the cinema."

Murdoc nods his head in affirmation, tapping his ring finger against the metal can of his drink.

"Yeah, fat arse _did_ say somethin' about tha', didn' he?"

2D shrugs, looking off to the side with a shy smile.

"First I heard of it. Not surprised, I'm a bit slow on the uptake."

It's said with a laugh and a shake of the head, but Murdoc doesn't follow suit. He frowns and reaches to the floor, grabbing an unopened can of beer in his free hand. He whistles, catching the singer's attention and he tosses him the drink.

2D fumbles a bit, squawking in surprise and he only manages to catch it by the metal lip of the can.

"Nice one." Murdoc says with a smirk, expression softening a bit and he gestures for 2D to join him. "C'mon mate, can't be fun bein' all alone down there."

A bright smile illuminates the singer's face and he bounces on his heels, rushing to take his seat on the floor.

"Thanks, Muds."

The bassist sends him a smile and raises his drink, giving the singer a salute.

"Cheers."

It continues like this for an hour or so. And as drinks are consumed, inhibitions are forgotten. Finding himself slipping to the floor, Murdoc lets out a sigh and groans when his head smacks against the hard surface. 2D laughs and he sets his beer to the side, trying his best to prop the other upright.

"Murdoc, y'ain't fairin' so well."

Murdoc snorts and shakes his head deliriously, nudging 2D in the stomach with a playful grin.

"No, no mate. I'm farin' jus' the right amount."

He reaches forward and pats the side of 2D's face once, raking his fingers through his cobalt locks before finally dropping his hand to his lap. He feels his heart constrict and rise to his throat, almost succeeding in cutting off his air supply.

When he doesn't say anything else, the singer rolls his eyes.

"...Always needin' help with gettin' back t'your room, eh Muds?" 2D teases, lips pulling into a fond smile and he gets to his feet. He holds out a hand in silent offering and it's grasped immediately.

This time, Murdoc doesn't let go.

oOo

Smoke plumes between chapped lips and through gapped teeth, burning its memory into clothing and skin. The scent of cannabis and tobacco mix together tantalizingly, creating a sort of _euphoric_ atmosphere.

Sitting side by side on the bassist's bed, their bodies press flush against one another and they have no qualms with sharing the same space. Legs intertwined with soiled sheets, fingers grazing jean clad thighs- it's a comfortable and companionable silence.

When gravity finally decides to force itself upon Murdoc, he feels his head begin to fall onto 2D's shoulder. The singer laughs softly and rests his cheek against the top of Murdoc's head, nuzzling the greasy mop affectionately.

"...S'nice, y'know." he sighs, drumming his fingers gently against the bassist's leg.

Murdoc snorts in reply, stubbing his cigarette out against his mattress carelessly.

"Dunno what the hell y'talkin' about, mate."

With each passing minute his words begin to lose their clarity. Wrapping his arms around the singer's waist, the bassist lets out a contented sigh.

"Sing for me, blue bird."

2D lets out a breathy laugh and shifts beside Murdoc, wrapping an arm around the his shoulder tiredly.

"...Okay."

It's a soft melody, rich words and intones escaping the singer's mouth with ease. Warmth floods through Murdoc's body as the song progresses, settling in the pit of his stomach.

And it moves lower.

He feels himself grow hot and he tightens his hold, gripping the singer's shirt tightly in his fists and he bites his tongue. 2D continues to sing softly, breath catching in his throat for a second (due to the vice grip Murdoc has on him) but he presses on.

When the song ends, the room falls still.

"...That one of ours?"

2D laughs and shakes his head.

"Nah, jus' somethin' I heard on the radio. Thought it was catchy enough."

His thumb rubs lazily against Murdoc's upper-arm, burning the bassist through the thin material of his shirt. It sends a shiver down his spine, nearly wracking his frame.

He's getting sloppy. He extracts himself from 2D's embrace, eyes downcast as he turns to face the singer. Bleary, _bloodshot_ eyes stare into twin abysses, searching. Voices in his head compel him to move forward- something akin to strings begin to tug in his chest, urging him on and he leans in.

He doesn't notice 2D turning his face away.

Rough lips meet a stubbled cheek awkwardly, friction almost uncomfortably rough but he doesn't stop. Murdoc lifts a calloused hand and presses it against the side of 2D's neck, gracelessly moving his mouth over the singer's exposed jawline.

Even without the 2D's participation he feels himself grow hot- he feels himself grow hard and his breath comes out in ragged pants.

"...Murdoc, what're y-"

"-Nothin'."

This exchange is commonplace, repeated time and time again.

2D doesn't question it.

The bassist presses on, moving his lips from the singer's jaw to the corner of his mouth, licking the flesh teasingly. After a few moments of useless prodding, the singer begins to reciprocate and it sends a jolt of desire down the bassist's spine. Murdoc feels 2D's hands press against his lower back and he grins into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the singer's neck with fervor.

In a flash of movement Murdoc is pressed against the mattress with 2D wedged between his spread thighs. He takes it upon himself to bite at the singer's lip, lapping the blood that surfaces from the fresh abrasions with his tongue.

2D grunts, but he doesn't make any signs of moving away.

The bassist hooks a leg around the singer's hip and thrusts upward, grinding himself against the singer's growing hardness with a moan. 2D lets out a muffled groan and returns the favor, pulling away from the kiss to attack Murdoc's neck.

Needless to say, that earns him a reaction.

Gentle hands reach down and tightly grip at Murdoc's hips, applying a pressure against the bassist's crotch that intensifies with each and every thrust delivered.

But just as soon as the contact starts, it stops. Dazed and confused, Murdoc opens his eyes and stares up at the other.

"..Wha-"

"-I-I gotta go."

No explanation is given. The singer looks absolutely terrified and he scrambles to his feet, darting out of the Winnebago with impressive balance and speed. The bassist feels his heart drop and nausea begin to settle in his stomach, twisting.

He can't find it in himself to be angry.

oOo


	22. Chapter 21 - Resolution

**Chapter 21- Standoff: Resolution**

**note:** well the pacing of this chapter is probably really weird. most likely not worth the wait. also the quality isn't that good nearing the end and for that i'm sorry 8'(

(edited on August 2, 2015)

(edited again on August 21, 2015)

oOo

Believe it or not, Murdoc has very little experience being on the receiving end of the cold shoulder. Growing up, those who opposed him had always been extremely vocal about their ill will. Whether they be his father, his brother, his classmates or his teachers, they made it known that he was unwanted.

He was never ignored. He didn't have that luxury.

So when 2D started avoiding him the day after their little..._session_...

Well.

Murdoc had been at a loss.

oOo

((scream))

Days of awkward silence go on without disruption. And when those days come to an end, Murdoc is left feeling empty and unfulfilled.

Band practices turn into an outlet of sorts. Every word that's left unexchanged between the singer and bassist turns into missed bass-lines and off-key vocals. Song after song after _song_ remains sub par- nothing gets better, nothing gets worse.

It's all completely stagnant.

Eventually Noodle makes a sound of frustration in the back of her throat when practice doesn't start improving and the others take that as their cue to stop the torture and pack it in for the night.

At the end of practice, after Russell and Noodle leave for their respective living spaces, Murdoc catches 2D staring at him. He looks dazed, _thoughtful_, and when his eyes flicker to meet the other's his face burns hot and he averts his gaze.

The bassist feels his stomach drop.

Disappointment tastes bitter on his tongue.

oOo

((night))

He hears laughter in the forefront of his brain.

It's painfully familiar.

_He's laughing at him._

Even if he isn't here, he's laughing at him.

He grasps his sheets in his fists and stifles a scream. Cold sweat begins to form on his face and he grows impatient, moving his hands from his sheets to his ears with a shaky groan.

Bright lights flicker behind his closed lids and a shiver runs down his spine, rattling his bones.

It's times like these when he regrets not taking his medication.

oOo

((later))

If he's going to be completely honest with himself..._and he rarely ever is_... he **really** should've seen this coming.

Heels scuffing against grainy flooring, shoulders slouched impossibly forward and a permanent pout carved onto his face, Murdoc walks the halls of Kong in solitude. Not like that's a strange occurrence- he's done it countless times before. And despite the prominent danger, he'll likely continue doing it until something bad happens to him.

He hears the rustling of cans on the floor, he hears the clapping of thunder just overhead and he hears heavy breathing off in the distance.

_Breathing and... footsteps._

He hears footsteps.

They aren't his own, either. They're too steady to belong to a zombie and they're too heavy to belong to the idiot or the girl. Which only leaves-

"-_We need t'have a little _**_talk_.**"

Russell.

Those are the only words that Murdoc is offered. They're firm, commanding and before he can say or do anything in response he's being unceremoniously dragged away by the back of his shirt in the direction of _Satan knows where._

He's completely at the other's mercy. His struggles for freedom are fruitless and the drummer's grip on his shirt only tightens. He flails his arms and attempts to slap the other man's hand away but the angle is too awkward and his arms are too short.

"Let go of me, you stupid cow!" he finally snaps, his balance off-kilter and he almost falls backwards when the hand on his shirt releases him abruptly. He'd sigh in relief if he didn't feel like he was being threatened.

Facing him in ire, the drummer squares his shoulders and stares the bassist down with a look similar to that of a predatory bear. It makes Murdoc jump and his insides squirm uncomfortably. They stare at each other for what feels like eons and the longer the eye-contact lasts the more restless Murdoc feels.

And then the drummer goes to speak.

"Did you try somethin' on 'D without his permission?"

Well, _that_ certainly wasn't what Murdoc had expected to come out of Russell's mouth. Obvious phrasings aside, the bassist has trouble grasping the drummer's meaning.

"...What?"

Russell drags a large hand down his face in exasperation. When Murdoc fails to reply he lets out a distressed groan and grits his teeth.

"Don't make me ask again, man. You know what I said."

And that he does.

He remains silent, unsure of how to go about responding to such a question.

(_Did _he try something on 2D without his consent?)

(He can't quite recall. Everything is too muddled up.)

He opens his mouth to speak but the words never come. The color visibly drains from Russell's face and Murdoc feels himself begin to panic, his silence being mistaken for confirmation rather than hesitance.

"...B'fore I answer, would y'care t'elaborate?"

Again, Russell seems to be fearing the worst and his shoulders stiffen, choler clearly showing in his ever-vacant eyes and he snarls.

His words are slow and cutting.

"2D- the singer of our band and _your_ self-proclaimed_ 'best mate'_\- has been actin' jus' like one of those dead things he's so damn crazy about and now I'm one-hundred percent certain that _you're _the cause of it."

_There was a time when Murdoc thought that he was physically incapable of feeling guilt. He has since been proven wrong, and there have been countless times since then in which he's felt such remorse and shame that he's surprised that there was ever a time where he didn't feel like his stomach was being dragged out of his ass._

It must be showing on his face. The guilt, that is.

"...Mm...well, Russ... I'm gonna have to say both _yes_ an' _no_ t'your question."

The hand on his throat doesn't catch him by surprise.

That doesn't keep him from gasping for air, though. It also doesn't keep him from digging his nails into the other's fleshy hand or the panicked tears from escaping his eyes.

Russell leans in close, tightening his grip around Murdoc's neck minutely as he let's out an enraged growl.

"How can y'say _both_?" he hisses, baring his teeth at the other menacingly. "How can it _be_ both? I gave you the benefit of the doubt, Murdoc. I saw somethin' flicker inside of you, an' I assumed that there was a beatin' heart inside that deranged hollow chest of yours. Should'a known that there wasn't, you sick son of a _cunt_."

The edges of his vision start to grow hazy and his breathing starts to accelerate. He can feel the life drain from his body, but _dammit_ he wants to live and if he has any hope of doing so he needs to explain himself _now_.

"_I...didn'..._rape_ him...y'fat OAF!_"

And just as suddenly as it started, his strangulation ceases. He falls to the floor in a crumpled heap and he clutches his chest desperately. His lungs struggle to fill themselves with air and he takes his time re-learning how to breathe.

"Then y'better get t'explainin', because I don't believe you."

A pause.

"...Y'want the _watered down_ version or the _full len_-"

"-_You better start tellin' me the _**_true version_**_ like your life fucking depends on it._"

Something tells the bassist that it does. He swallows thickly, usual dry-wit unattainable and he clenches his eyes shut. He takes a deep shuddering breath and exhales through his nose, counting backwards from ten-to-one.

"...I kissed 'em."

Russell's hostile expression falters.

"...Y'**_what_**?"

Avoiding all eye-contact, Murdoc rubs his bruising neck absentmindedly with a shrug. He would've _loved_ to have left it there, but his mouth is moving of its own accord and he can't get himself to shut up.

"We got completely plastered, mate. Well, _I _was at first. When you and Noodle were out at the cinema, me an' Stu-Pot headed to my Winnie for some good ol' fanshioned _ffffun_. High as a kite. We were totally shitfaced, and I thought that it'd be a good idea to get him goin', yeah? Seein' that I was already there, if y'catch my meaning."

"..Uh, yeah." the drummer says, shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot. "Um."

(But, of course, Murdoc isn't done.)

"He was singin' for me at first. I asked him to- somethin' from the radio and it sounded right beautiful. Got me good, it did- in all the _right _places_. _An' when I went to kiss him he wasn't havin' it. Which, I'll admit, was sort of embarrasin' on my end. _But then he started kissin' _**_back_**, an'-"

"-Alright, Murdoc, I get i-"

"-It was _really_ fuckin' _good_, mate! He got really into it, too- surprised the hell out of me. Pressed me into the mattress, ground against my-"

"-_Murdoc, _please_ stop talki-_"

"-I don't even know what I did _wrong!_ "

Somewhere between his initial embarrassment and his nervous word-vomit, Murdoc had started to grow emotional.

Russell looks perturbed. Or disturbed. He remains completely silent, though, and he waits for the other to continue speaking.

Murdoc reaches a shaky hand into the depths of his pants-pocket and extracts a cigarette and lighter. The tremors in his hands makes it difficult for him to light it but he manages and he takes a drag off of it in silence.

Inhale, and...

...Exhale.

"S'not like I meant for this t'fuckin' happen." he finally hisses through clenched teeth. He pulls his hair angrily and pinches the cigarette out of his mouth, stubbing it prematurely against the floor. "I figured that I'd keel over before that soddin' can of worms was opened."

There's a pregnant pause before Russell decides to speak up. The overhead lights flicker once, twice, and the sound of buzzing reverberates throughout the vacant hall.

"Listen, man. I..I'm gonna go to sleep and pretend that everythin' I heard here was jus' a part of some horrible nightmare."

Murdoc shrugs, indifferent.

He can't really blame him.

oOo

When Murdoc passes 2D in the hall the next morning, the singer's passive gaze lingers. His eyes widen upon seeing the harsh bruising on the bassist's throat and he lets out a pained gasp.

He looks like he wants to say something.

oOo

After the fifth day of silence, Murdoc is surprised to hear a tentative knock on his door.

He's even more surprised to find 2D standing on the other side of it, wringing his hands nervously and looking the other way.

Despite the situation, Murdoc finds the act endearing. But underneath the soft sinews of feelings rushing through his body is skeletal hurt- keeping him upright, keeping him from rushing forward and apologizing for something that he isn't sure about.

And still, they continue to stare.

2D looks scared.

After what feels like an eternity of wordless staring, Murdoc feels his patience start to wear thin.

"What the fuck do _you_ want, dullard?" he snaps, unable to take joy in the way 2D flinches at his tone.

Still, the singer doesn't speak. Murdoc growls low his his chest and grips the doorframe with both hands, heart beating dangerously fast in his chest and he can feel enraged heat flood to his face.

"Well, if it's _nothin'_, then I suggest y'start headin' in the _other direction_ before I decide to shove my boot in your mouth."

This time, however, 2D doesn't flinch. He looks more or less accepting of his words, nodding his head slowly. And when he opens his mouth to speak, he doesn't hold back.

"M'sorry, Murdoc."

_That_ gives the bassist pause, and he feels his shoulders relax upon hearing the sincere words leave the other man's mouth. In spite of the situation, Murdoc feels a smirk pull at his lips.

"...Go on."

2D frowns, hesitates, and takes a deep breath.

"M'really, _really_ sorry about what happened between us." he breathes, eyes locked on the other. "I...listen. I know tha' we're best friends, an' I've been havin' a lot of fun hangin' out with you. An' for a while I've been feelin' sorta jumbled in my brain. By _you_ an' how you've been actin'. Around _me, _I mean. "

2D pauses, earnest, eyes wide and fearful. Murdoc doesn't dare speak.

"When you were drunk, or when you were sad, you'd act _different_." he continues. "A-an' it never bothered me, not _once_, b'cause it felt _nice_ bein' wanted by someone. S'pecially by _you_. An' it'd be a lie t'say tha' I don' feel somethin' akin to that, too. For _you,_ I mean."

The bassist's stomach lurches at the singer's honest words and he jumps when slender hands firmly grasp his shoulders. He can't find it in himself to fight it, though, and he can't verbalize his anger or his embarrassment because 2D is actually saying something worth listening to.

"And m'sorry tha'... y'went so far as t'kiss me. An' that I didn' react very good. In the end, that is." his words are gentle now, coaxing, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into Murdoc's shoulders. The bassist bites his tongue to keep himself silent, breathing heavily through his nose. "S'jus' that...I was embarrassed, an' I was scared."

There's a hint of uncertainty in the singer's blackened eyes.

The bassist frowns.

"Sayin' sorry don't do me jack shit, dent face. " he intones dryly, fidgeting under the singer's grip. He scowls unconvincingly and tries to shove 2D away, earning a snort from the taller man.

He doesn't trust himself to say anything else.

The hesitance in the singer's eyes quickly passes and suddenly he's leaning in, pressing his lips against the bassist's roughly. Murdoc's breath hitches in his throat and he feels the hands on his shoulders tighten their grip once before sliding down his arms, down his sides and settle at his hips.

There isn't much thinking on his part as he leans into the kiss, presses himself flush against the singer and wraps his arms around his neck with barely contained enthusiasm.

He's smiling.

oOo


	23. filler: Chapter 22 - Mending

**Chapter 22 - Filler: Mending**

**((Edited on July 31st, 2015))**

**note:** did i get your hopes up last time? well be prepared for them to be dashed bc there's no sex. not for a while. sorry, i'm a big liar 8) _STILL RATED T_

_also the quality is probably shoddy so im apologizing in advance if ur eyes melt_

(small edits made on August 21, 2015)

oOo

((eyes))

Murdoc has a fear of eyes.

They analyze, they judge. They scrutinize and they break you down in the time that it takes to blink. A loving stare can morph into that of a heated glare and the intensity of either can cripple even the strongest of men.

For Murdoc, if hands weren't grabbing him and slamming him into the ground as a child, there were eyes. They planned, they watched, and they learned. Sizing him up, following his every move...

They hurt him.

And so although the eyes currently staring holes into the back of his head belong to someone he knows and lives with, he can't help but feel nervous.

Stationed just behind him in the recording studio sits Russell, ever the thoughtful and peaceful giant. It remains silent for several minutes, all consuming and Murdoc has to remind himself that he isn't on trial.

So why is he so scared?

"..Somethin' happened between you and 'D."

Murdoc's shoulders stiffen and he frowns, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the other man. He contemplates his response, tapping his fingers against his armrests sharply before sighing in affirmation.

There's no point in lying.

"Yeah."

Russell nods once, his gentle eyes filled with unspoken words of understanding and amusement. If Murdoc even cared to look closely enough he would see Del shaking his head, laughing at him.

"I always thought y'liked him more than y'let on." the drummer grins, snorting. The bassist sneers in return, clutching his armrests irritably. "M'glad it worked out for you this time."

Murdoc hums quietly in response, tapping his heels against the floor rhythmically. His eyes remain glued to Russell's face even when the other man returns to his work.

"..Yeah."

oOo

The voices in his head have begun to calm down, but the constant chill in his spine has decided to make its presence known. Biting at his skin to the point of being raw, scraping against the chafed surface until the goosebumps growing on his arms turn painful...

The cold _hurts_.

He never stopped wearing 2D's jacket during his warm period. He was able to get away with wearing simple t-shirts underneath it rather than bulking himself up with heavy layers.

But _now?_

He's back to that, again. Back to long sleeves under long sleeves and shitty turtleneck sweaters. And his none-too-subtle wardrobe change hasn't gone unnoticed by the others.

Currently sitting on his bed with his legs crossed and his body slouched over a small stack of books, a faint rapping against his door breaks Murdoc from his thoughts. Silence falls over his room momentarily before another round knocking meets his ears and his heart nearly jumps into his throat.

Scrambling off his bed in a mad dash for the door, he already knows who it is and he tries to reign in his excitement.

Swinging the door open with an eager smile, Murdoc pulls the other into his Winnebago by the front of his shirt with a crazed look in his eyes. 2D lets out a surprised laugh, body contorted upon his entrance and he straightens his spine when he's finally released from Murdoc's grasp.

"H-hey, Muds!" he says with a short laugh, grin in place as he carefully fixes the front of his abused shirt. His eyes widen upon taking in Murdoc's appearance and his grin falls short, concern becoming the dominant feature in his expression.

"...Y'cold, or somethin'?"

Murdoc looks down at himself embarrassedly and plays it off with a shrug, feigning indifference.

"Mm."

The singer frowns and he looks like he wants to ask more, but the bassist doesn't give him the chance.

"Whadd'ya need, Stu-Pot?" he asks, sending 2D another grin, trying to steer the conversation in a more _desirable _direction. He crosses his arms over his chest in a show of friendly nonchalance and tilts his head to the side in open curiosity. 2D looks taken aback by Murdoc's display and a goofy smile alights his face, pleasant flush tinging his cheeks.

"Well, I was jus' wonderin' if y'wanted t'go do somethin' with me." he says, looking almost shy as he speaks_. _He pauses in mid-thought, choosing his next words carefully. "...Jus' the two of us. Kinda like we used to."

Murdoc ignores the insects buzzing about in innards and bites back the smile threatening to split across his face.

"...Oh?" he asks, cursing himself when the smile _does _start to show and his cursing increases ten-fold when his heart skips a beat. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a cigarette and places it between his lips. Lighting it, he presses on. "S'that so?"

Bashfulness evaporating, a knowing look dawns 2D's features and he smirks. He snatches the cigarette from Murdoc's mouth playfully, pianist fingers gently grazing the chapped surface of the other's lips. The bassist lets out a frustrated cry, trying in vain to seize it back.

"_Hey-!_"

"-Yeah, it is." the singer teases, slowly raising the cigarette to his mouth to take a drag off it. Blowing the smoke straight back into Murdoc's face, 2D's coy grin turns cheeky. "So y'wanna? We can try goin' back to the train tracks or somethin'."

Not wanting to give 2D the satisfaction of falling victim to a coughing fit, Murdoc toughs out the excess smoke like a true champion and makes a show of breathing it in through his mouth. 2D laughs, sticking the cigarette back into Murdoc's mouth without warning and taking the other by surprise.

Taking his own drag off the cigarette, the bassist mulls the offer over.

(It's not really up for debate.)

Grinning, Murdoc rests a hand over his heart, bats his eyes and feigns surprise.

"Why, _Mr. Tusspot_!" he exclaims, his voice pitched up comically high and resulting in 2D letting out a strangled laugh. "Are you requesting my presence on an outing?"

The singer's smile remains glued to his face and he shrugs.

Letting his hand fall away from his chest, the bassist feels a familiar warmth rise to his face and he doesn't try to fight it off. He stumbles back, balance momentarily jeopardized and he ignores the hand darting to assist him.

"Yeah."

oOo

It's evening and there has yet to be any excitement at the train tracks. Sitting on the same slab of cement they had occupied only a month or so prior, Murdoc and 2D look passed the tracks and towards the woods intently.

Murdoc sighs in exasperation.

"Still don't see anything out there, mate."

The two of them have been sitting in the same spots for over an hour and the bassist's ass is starting to get sore. The singer sends him an annoyed glare, tapping his fingers against his thighs restlessly. When he doesn't respond, Murdoc tries again.

"This is dumb."

"_Shut up_!" 2D snaps, smacking Murdoc's knee in vehemence. The bassist just snorts and nudges his ribs in retaliation, not at all surprised by the other's reaction.

"Cool it, sunbeam, I was just kidding."

The singer rolls his eyes and rests his chin in his open palm, groaning. "No you weren't. And anyway, s'probably a good thing that there aren't any animals comin' out because they'd probably be rabid or somethin' of the like."

Murdoc nods in agreement.

"Might add to the _fun_, though."

2D hums softly, a non-committal reply and he shrugs. It's quiet, and the high-pitched chirping of frogs in the distance fills the silence.

The silence is peaceful though, and when no words are exchanged a gentle hand rests itself against Murdoc's thigh. Deft fingers squeeze softly, coaxing a surprised grunt from the bassist and the singer grins in appreciation. Moist lips press against a stubbled jaw, spindly arms wrap around a narrow waist and Murdoc leans into the welcoming embrace with a smile.

He reciprocates the kiss without hesitation, not once questioning the sudden turn of events and when slim fingers knot themselves into his hair he lets out a pleasurable moan. 2D's breath hitches audibly in his throat and the singer presses forward, hands pulling the bassist's hair once before sliding down and traveling to rest at his lower back.

(Even through the bulking layers of his shirts and jacket, he can feel 2D's warmth.)

When 2D pulls away from the kiss Murdoc follows, trailing after him and he struggles to bite back a groan when he's met with empty space. He feels the other rest his chin against his shoulder, he feels the other wrap his arms around his waist and he fidgets in his seat when the heat in his groin becomes too much.

Suddenly, a low growling resounds from the bushes below and in a moment of panic they both forget about their tender embrace and book it to their car.

oOo


	24. filler: Chapter 23 - Back in Time

**Chapter 23 - Filler: Back in Time**

**note**: we're going back in time for a wee bit! [insert sick guitar solo] YAA!

this is a short chapter, sorry! 8O i needed to get this one out of the way 8)

(small edits made on August 21, 2015)

oOo

((night))

What had originally been thought to be his friend is now seen as his enemy. Darkness is akin to cold here, tearing apart his insides as the withdrawals begin to make themselves known.

The faint sound of decrepit laughter meets his ears tonelessly. Heavy hands run down his back and they elicit bone-chilling shivers from his core, shaking him. He screws his eyes shut but he can still see the stares. Red, glowing with malicious intent.

Pill bottle clutched tightly his his hand, he twists off the lid, extracts a single capsule and places it on his tongue. He swallows it dry and chokes, chasing it down with half a bottle of rum despite knowing the dangers of mixing alcohol with his medication. All too suddenly his feelings of fear are gone, draining from his body once again and the little voices in his head begin to leave one by one.

Nights like these are dreadful. They rob him of emotion, of inspiration, killing off not only the bad thoughts but the good thoughts as well.

Drifting off into an uneventful sleep, the red eyes that always haunt him begin to dim and flicker, fading back into the darkness without a fight. Hours pass him by and when he finally opens his eyes there isn't any relief present. He blinks once, twice, and when he glances across his room he meets the vacant stare of his ward.

Instead of feeling angry, though, he feels nothing.

His ward- _Stuart Pot_\- blinks lethargically, bruised lips parted slightly and allowing a viscous trail of drool to escape from his mouth. In that moment of silence, Stuart's eyes fall closed and they don't re-open.

Murdoc sighs tiredly and rubs his eyes, glancing down at his abused arms with indifference. It's all the same.

Dry blood, battered skin...

It's nothing.

He rises to his feet, pulls on his jeans and leaves them unbuttoned. Slipping into his cuban heeled boots, he stumbles towards his bathroom and narrowly avoids knocking over the comatose Stuart stationed in his chair.

He relieves himself and skips the cleanup, opting to stare at his reflection in a haze.

Thirty-one years old and still going nowhere. Carrying the weight of mental illness and alcoholism, _literally _carrying the weight of a nineteen year-old coma patient and constantly falling over himself inside his already too-small apartment.

He's young, but he's aging.

If he weren't still under the protection of his medication he'd feel sad.

oOo

((resurrection))

There's a crash.

A body, which had originally been slumped in the seat behind him, surges through his windshield in a boneless heap. There's a crack, a shatter, and a thud as it smears wetly against the pavement, leaving a bloody trail in its wake.

The smile on his face has long since fled, his empty eyes staring through the gory fragmented glass and towards the broken body on the ground.

There's a shudder, a twitch, and the body slowly rises to its feet. Screams erupt from the onlookers instantaneously, people running away while others call for help.

Murdoc, thoughtless as always, quickly scrambles out of his car as he watches the bloody figure turn its newly dented head toward him, blackened eyes streaming ichor down bruising ivory cheeks like tears and the breath catches in his throat.

Stuart, his ward,_ the nineteen year old coma patient he had been forced to care for,_ is staring at him with alert eyes.

He doesn't blink.

A chilling smile alights his busted face and he falls to one knee, grasping at his chest weakly before collapsing once more.

In that moment, as Murdoc crumples beside the fallen Stuart, he feels something in his chest begin to pull.

The beginning of the end.

oOo

**A/N:** hello!

i studied mental illnesses a bit last year so I'm very much aware that what Murdoc is going through isn't like. 100% how schizophrenia actually is. which is why he's able to get away with not taking his medication. what he has is sort of a mixture of schizophrenia and psychosis. it's neither but it's both.

idk if such a thing exists but. whatever.

this story takes place during phase 1 so it's only been a few years since he's gone off of his medication- which is why he has withdrawal still. and he abuses other substances so fucking much that it's not helping at all.

hopefully this little thing was enjoyable. or at least, educational.

love you!

**please remember to leave a review! 8)**

xoxo

-Jess

9/12: deleted stuff BUT EHRES THIS LINE i never wanted to let go:

_"He'd rather be alive and go through withdrawal than be a shattered, broken down marionette._

_He never liked puppets."_


	25. filler: Chapter 24 - Back in Time

**Chapter 24 - Filler: Back in Time**

**note:** we're still doing a bit of a rewind thing for now 8) won't last much longer, I'm just stuck.

(small edits made on August 21, 2015)

oOo

((hospice))

_The first time Stuart had spoken to him was the first time Murdoc had ever felt any semblance of aching take place in his chest._

_It was also the first time that he had ever felt tongue-tied._

_Lying beneath stark white bed sheets in his hospital room, Stuart smiled up at him, bruised and broken skin stretching painfully._

And he's still smiling.

Staring at Murdoc with his blackened bloody eyes, Stuart's bruising lips reveal the almost child-like amusement he probably feels at the cuffs encircling the older man's wrists and the men in uniforms standing just outside his door.

"You're Mr. Niccals, yeah?"

The question is simple enough, but it leaves a sour taste Murdoc's mouth.

"Murdoc." he corrects, tapping his foot impatiently against the tiled floor. Stuart nods, smile still firmly set in place and Murdoc has to wonder just how _there _the kid is mentally. "And of course I am, who else would I be?"

"Murdoc." Stuart repeats, ignoring the rude comment and his smile widens fractionally as if the name on his tongue were a familiar one. "You're th'bloke who knocked me upside the head with his car."

Murdoc's stomach drops.

"Yeah."

The smile on Stuart's face falls a bit, losing a touch of its vibrance. He remains silent for a moment and Murdoc begins to wonder why the hell the kid wanted to talk to him in the first place.

Then, suddenly, the young man is _beaming_ at him. Adoration, admiration and _respect_ all radiate from the kid simultaneously and Murdoc almost has to take a step back from its intensity.

A cough.

"You're also th'guy who saved m'life_._"

Murdoc blinks once, confused by Stuart's sudden change in tone and visage.

"My parents told me about you." he says lightly, fiddling with his sheets as his posture grows lax. "That... you took care of me when I was asleep. And that you woke me up."

Murdoc raises a brow, shifting his weight uncomfortably at Stuart's innocent recollection of his parent's story and he can vaguely sense his guards growing tense as their conversation lengthens.

"Really, now?" he asks, deciding to humor the kid because it's better than the alternative. "That's what good ol' Mr. and Mrs. Tusspot had to say?"

Stuart nods, wrinkling his nose at the distasteful and incorrect surname.

"Well, their version wasn't very tactful." he admits, scratching his cheek in a show of bashfulness. "But that's what I gathered, anyway."

The room falls silent after that, and when one moment turns into a few minutes Murdoc begins to feels himself grow agitated.

"Listen, Stupot." he snaps, surprising Stuart with his sharp tone and sudden aggression. "I know it don't seem like it, but I _do_ have a schedule to upkeep and I'm a very busy man. So if there was somethin' you wanted t'say to me, _now_ would be the time."

The smile on Stuart's face is completely gone now, a pensive frown taking its place.

"...I wanted to tell you that I'm droppin' the charges my parents put against you."

Murdoc almost has to ask Stuart to repeat himself.

His smile is back.

oOo

((proposition))

With the charges against him finally dropped and his freedom newly reclaimed, Murdoc finds himself more often than not in the company of the bedridden Stuart.

And, more often than not, he finds himself sharing said company with Stuarts mother. On those days he makes sure to keep his gaze level and his tone in check.

(Never again will he doubt Rachel Pot's resolve nor her ability to scare him shitless.)

Today, though, they're alone.

Stationed in the chair adjacent to Stuart's bed, Murdoc looks on in amusement as the younger man scrawls lyrics down in his journal.

(The intimacy of the image is surprising, even to him.)

His hands, desperate for something to busy himself with, twitch and jerk in the direction of the bass guitar he always brings but never plays as he watches Stuart begin fiddle around with his Casio.

The delicate notes and intones emanating from the plastic keyboard are reminiscent to those he had heard the first time Stuart played for him back at Uncle Norm's.

He can't believe he had forgotten just how _breathtaking_ it was.

When the song finally comes to an end, a gentle smile graces Stuart's lips and he sighs, setting his keyboard off to the side. It's quiet for a moment and he seems to relish it, eyes downcast as his fingers tap in thought.

"...Thanks for bringin' my stuff over, Muds." Stuart grins, bringing his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them loosely. "I didn' think I'd be able to play anymore. M'brain feels different than it used to."

Guilt.

"...That shit was takin' up too much space in my flat."

"...I see you brought your guitar again, too." he observes, eyes widening in realization. "O-oh! Oh yeah! I remember you playin' that when I was out! Bass, right?"

Murdoc's heart clenches at the younger's man's enthusiasm and he coughs, raking his fingers through his greasy hair once before letting out a shaky sigh.

"Yeah, Stu."

"...You bring it a lot." Stuart says softly, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. "I don' know why I didn' notice before. Why don't you play it? I remember it puttin' me at ease when my brain would wake up and my body didn't work."

Murdoc shrugs, at a loss.

"Dunno."

Stuarts heaves a sigh, mouth pulling into his first _real_ frown and his eyes seem to narrow in frustration.

"You don't talk much, do you."

It's not a question.

"I don't have much to say at this point." Murdoc confesses. "I'm still gettin' over the fact that you were stupid enough to let me off the hook for runnin' you over with a car."

"Twice". Stuart intones dryly.

Murdoc nods.

"Yeah."

The frown on Stuart's face twitches briefly before a grin alights his features.

"So since you play bass, does that mean you're in a band?"

Murdoc barks a laugh of surprise, taken off guard by the kid's ability to change conversation.

"...Not currently, no. I've been in more than I can count on both hands put together but they were all horrible."

"And why's that?"

Murdoc shakes his head, a patronizing smile glued to his face.

"Little Stuey's gettin' a bit excited, isn't he?" he teases, grin splitting across his face. "And what about you, eh? Been in a band, or no?"

Stuart ignores the mocking tone and shrugs, shaking his head.

"No." he sighs, resting his chin on his open palm in resignation. "I mean, I've auditioned for a few, sure, but I never made the cut."

Murdoc, surprised at this revelation, feels something in his gut begin to churn.

"You're fucking with me, right?" he asks, searching Stuarts face for any trace of a lie. "You're tellin' me tha' _you_ went and auditioned to be in a band and they _didn_' let you in?"

"Um." the younger man says dumbly, unsure of how to respond to the other's intense reaction. "..Yes?"

Murdoc growls in the back of his throat, tapping is heels against the floor in irritation.

"This world's gone to shite, hasn't it?" he asks, glancing up at the other through his fringe, meeting his obsidian eyes for the first time without difficulty. "Y'got a great set of hands on ya, mate. And yer voice ain't half bad, either."

Stuart seems to perk a bit at the praise, cloudy mood dissipating almost instantly.

"Really?" he asks, toothy grin stretching almost impossibly wide across his bruised lips.

Murdoc nods in affirmation, planting his feet firmly on the ground before hefting himself to his feet. He stares down at the younger man for a moment, an idea blooming in the forefront of his brain.

"_Really_." he says smoothly, planting himself on Stuart's bed. "And, actually, now that I think about it... y'got a nice lookin' face on ya, too."

"Do I?" Stuart asks, pressing his hands to his face in surprise.

"And you're _tall_. That could work nicely."

Silence.

"...Wha'?" Stuart asks, caught off guard. Murdoc continues, ignoring the other's question.

"I got a proposition for you."

"...Yeah?"

A grin.

"Yeah. Let's get the fuck out of here and start a band."

oOo

((reality hits))

Months pass and his symptoms grow worse.

The prescribed pills under his bed grow even more distant as his restless dreams increase in frequency. The bottles collecting on his floor change their labels and their alcohol content, knocking him on his ass in an ill conceived attempt at self medication.

Of course, Stuart doesn't notice.

He's not meant to notice.

He sits cross legged on the floor, notebook in hand and he smiles every so often in Murdoc's direction. The bassist bites his lip to keep his rapidly beating heart in check.

Another flicker.

"Sing for me."

oOo

**A/N:** this has been the longest break in between chapters that Reality has experienced ever 8O almost a month! wow. i'm posting this now but I'm probably going to go back and edit this again once people have read it!

the original purpose behind these flashback chapters was just... to have fun, i guess. but now it's to shed some light on a few things that were originally unanswered. murdoc's hallucinations have to do with mental illness (and possibly his alcohol abuse) and his feelings for 2D originate to the beginning.

i think this is as far as flashbacks go, though! next chapter things will be back to normal.

love you guys!

**_remember to leave a review! 8'D_**

xoxo

-Jess


	26. filler: Chapter 25 - Trial Period

**Chapter 25: Filler - Trial Period/Union**

**note:** HEY GUYS so the old chapter 25 is being pushed down to being 26. and 26 is gonna be 27. this is an insertion to add depth and build to Murdoc and 2D's relationship because i fucked up and forgot about that whole process.

and i also want to mention that the beginning of this chapter very briefly alludes to murdoc's past and possible suicidal tendencies. VERY SHORTLY and it doesn't go into detail at all. i just thought i'd let you all know just in case that might be a trigger to anyone.

ENJOY

(small edits made on August 21, 2015)

oOo

PART I - Trial Period

oOo

((jump))

Murdoc never thought that a jump could feel so liberating.

He wanted to jump when he was diagnosed with his mental illness and sentenced to a life reminiscent to that of his father's. He wanted to jump when his brain started to betray him and project images that weren't really there. He wanted to jump when his medication started to drain the life out of him, leaving him empty and without a purpose.

All of those self-deprecating urges, all of the times that he wanted to say _goodbye_ to the pains of life and _hello_ to the cold embrace of death, cannot compare to the relief he feels right now. Moving from one status to another.

A metaphorical jump.

Basking in the glow of his own personal accomplishments, finding the will to actually _try_. Knowing that he can really, truly care for someone and have his feeling be returned without an ounce of hesitance.

It's awkward.

oOo

((hold))

More often than not, his heart hammers in his chest. It chokes him, keeps him from speaking and never in his life has he been this nervous.

He doesn't know why.

2D stares off into space, blinking tiredly and he wordlessly taps his feet against the legs of the kitchen table. His hand rests against the tabletop, completely still and Murdoc can't stop looking at it. His own hand itches, twitches, aches to reach out and grab the other's but he doesn't know if that would be an okay thing to do.

He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, and grunts in frustration.

"Somethin' botherin' ya, Muds?" 2D asks, surrendering his attention to the other man. Murdoc shakes his head in denial and drums his fingers against his thigh.

"No, no. Nothin' at all."

2D's lips quirk into a grin and he raises an eyebrow. "Y'sound awfully unsure about that. Somethin' I can do to help?"

Murdoc's eyes dart back to 2D's hand.

"..No."

The singer doesn't look convinced.

"Somethin's eatin' at ya, mate. Y'mind tellin' me about it?"

The bassist averts his gaze, face heating up in embarrassment. Frustrated, he rakes his fingers through his hair and heaves a sigh.

"Stop askin' me that, there isn't anything wrong."

2D purses his lips and crosses his arms over his chest, eyes disbelieving. Murdoc's eyes follow the motion of the other's arms and after a moment of guilty silence 2D starts to smile.

"It's okay if y'wanna hold my hand, Muds."

Murdoc's gaze snaps up to stare into 2D's eyes, his face pulling into a grimace as the other's turns smug.

"Shut up, don't flatter yourself."

2D snorts, uncrosses his arms and reaches over the table meaningfully. "That, comin' from you? I don't think so. You love hangin' onto me, just admit it."

Murdoc's eyes grow wide in shock and his jaw slackens. His eyes narrow sharply and he casts the other man a glare, embarrassment quickly being replaced with irritation.

"In yer fuckin' dreams."

2D clicks his tongue and shrugs, indifferent.

"Alright, then." he sighs. He places his hand back on the table and looks down, away, towards an open newspaper. The room falls still and silent.

Murdoc resumes staring at 2D's hand, itchy, twitchy, and aching.

He grabs it.

oOo

((scream))

Yelling is no longer a necessity between the two of them. It is, however, a pastime.

Words hold no weight when they're shouted from across a room. They explode, turn to dust, and instead of malice they evoke gratitude.

They aren't angry, they aren't hurt. They just enjoy the sound of each other's voices, the rising intones and pitches and volume goes beyond max.

It's a game.

But, like all games, it must come to an end. Because Russell no longer has the patience for it.

They're both smart enough to know when they've lost.

oOo

Their kisses always start off soft and tender, leading into something more heated and passionate.

They share the same space, bodies pressed flush together, lips and tongues brushing hotly. Hands caress faces, legs, chests, soft and unsure but practiced. Moans, sighs, and breaths escape but they do not break past the concrete walls.

Grinding doesn't go beyond _that_. The physical barrier between the two has not been breached, but that's probably a good thing. Murdoc, still so unaccustomed to loving and sincere care, doesn't need the breach.

A kiss is enough.

oOo

PART II - Union (NSFW)

oOo

((press))

Mouths press, meld and move together in smooth and steady brushes. Breath intermixes, touches are exchanged and Murdoc is hard-pressed to find a reason to discontinue their union.

Gentle hands hold onto his shoulders with a firm grasp, thumbs rubbing slow and steady circles over his collarbone. His own hands, in his excitement, tremble and shake as he combs his fingers through 2D's cobalt locks.

Soft angry whispers echo in the forefront of his brain, teasing him, taunting him but he pays them no mind as 2D begins to hum. He hums and laughs softly against Murdoc's cheek, off-setting the cruel imaginary words reverberating within the bassist's skull and for the first time in God knows when, Murdoc feels relief.

2D is the first to pull away, breathing heavily through his nose. His eyes are closed, shut tight, and when he opens them Murdoc feels the heat in his groin start to burn. Pressed against his head board, he leans his head back and tries to catch his breath.

"Christ, Dents. You're suckin' the air right out of my lungs." he laughs breathlessly, wiping the sweat from his brow. 2D snorts in return, leaning and resting his forehead against Murdoc's shoulder. "Gimme a break, yeah?"

"Sorry."

Murdoc shakes his head tiredly, wrapping his arms around the other man's shoulders.

"Fuck off, no you're not."

2D leans back a bit and grins at him teasingly.

"Yeah. You're right."

Their lips press together again, wetly, hotly, and Murdoc can feel 2D's smile spread wide across his face. He adjusts his position, absentmindedly spreading his legs and he grunts in surprise when he feels 2D's hand move to the front of his pants.

"This okay?" he whispers, backing off a bit in wait of the other's reply. Murdoc nods mutely, huffing and moving his hips against 2D's hand with a needy sigh.

"Y-yeah, yeah. Keep goin'." he breathes, closing his eyes and tightening his hold on the singer's neck. "Keep goin', mate."

"Mm." 2D hums, smiling, and does as Murdoc instructs. He grips the bassist's hardening cock through the front of his jeans, squeezing once and eliciting a hissing moan from the other man. He pauses, eyes suddenly unsure. "Sorry, too hard?"

Murdoc shakes his head and groans, thrusting up against 2D's hand once more.

"_Fuck_ no."

This seems to put 2D's mind at ease. Without another word he continues with his administrations, rubbing and squeezing Murdoc through his trousers. Just when the bassist thinks he's about to pass out the singer's hands are unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, delving into his underwear.

"Mnnnnghh-"

"-This okay?" 2D asks again, obsidian eyes wide and searching. Murdoc feels a moan start to build in his chest and he leans his head back, eyes screwing shut.

"Y-yes, _yes!" _he groans, gritting his teeth in agitation. "For the love of Satan, Stu, shut the fuck up and touch me!"

2D laughs but he doesn't say anything else. He resumes his gentle touches, drawing out needy and desperate moans from the other man with each and every stroke given.

In a matter of minutes Murdoc reaches his climax, coming hard into 2D's hand and onto his exposed stomach. The singer wipes his hand on the already dirtied sheets wordlessly, using his clean hand to brush Murdoc's fringe out of his eyes.

The bassist tucks himself back into his jeans with a tired sigh, leaving them unzipped.

He doesn't move when a kiss is pressed to his forehead.

oOo

END PART II

oOo

**A/N: **this was another short one! i thought it'd be good to put this before the concert chapter because WOW that was a sudden jump and i apologize for that. but the feedback was positive so i'm sure none of u are angry with me 8)

i might go back again and add more to this chapter, we'll see! i'll let you guys know if i do 8)

**_you don't have to review this chapter! but you can if you want 8)_**

xoxo

-Jess

**EDIT: **I added more to this chapter!


	27. PART III - Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

**note:** wassup sons i'm back 8') hollah. theyre basically in an established relationship at this point but! not really 8)

also you might've noticed the rating change B) ahahah nice /passes away

(small edits made on August 21, 2015)

oOo

((performance))

A concert.

Strobing lights flash the buzzing crowd blindingly, their polychromatic bulbs bright enough to bring the screaming fans to their knees with each whirring rotation. Smoke machines spout mist and fog, stirring the already building anticipation as men and women alike try to force themselves on-stage.

The moment their feet hit the stage, the screaming in the crowd intensifies. A grin pulls at the bassist's mouth, revealing his razor-sharp teeth and serpentine tongue. Each member takes their respective place, smiling, and the audience falls silent.

The singer clears his throat.

"Hello, everyone!" he calls out, mouth pressing against his microphone as he speaks. "How're ya doin' this fine evenin'?" The audience is a mixture of laughter and various answers, barely decipherable to the blue haired man. "I'm gonna assume that's somethin' positive, yeah?" he laughs.

Murdoc rolls his eyes from behind, snorting. "Get on with it, will ya?" he shouts, voice projecting loudly throughout the stadium despite his own microphone being positioned away from his face. 2D laughs in return.

"Y-yeah, okay okay." he breathes, returning his attention back to the audience. "We got a nice set for you folks. M'sure this one here'll be familiar t'some."

With that, the lights fall low and the drums begin to thump. The bass begins to strum, the guitar begins to riff and the keyboards begin to chime. 2D opens his mouth and begins to sing the opening lines of Clint Eastwood, staring vacantly out into the audience. The crowd goes wild, stirring in anticipation and the moment that Russell drifts to sleep and Del awakens cries of joy and excitement erupt from the stadium.

Murdoc watches on in amusement through all the song changes, through the entire concert and he smiles when 2D starts getting into the music. His eyes stay trained on the other man, never wavering and when the singer glances over his shoulder he's done for. 2D winks and motions for him to join him center stage, doing so with a roll of his shoulder and a nod of his head.

Always the attention whore, Murdoc does _just that_, sauntering towards 2D with a grin and a purpose. The crowd laughs and cheers, clapping as their beloved bassist finally starts taking hold of the spotlight.

What he doesn't expect, however, is 2D deciding to lean in. Not that he minds, of course, but the fact that they're so _public_ right now is a little off-putting.

2D continues singing, but he keeps his eyes locked with Murdoc's. His mouth forms into a smile, his eyes grow soft and hooded and Murdoc's breath catches in his throat when 2D's expression changes.

The singer leans in even closer, lips nearly pressing and moving against the bassist's cheek as he sings. He brushes his lips over the corner of Murdoc's mouth, pulling away with a smile as the audience begins to laugh and cheer.

His focus has just been shot.

oOo

((backstage))

He's being pressed into a wall. Hands are on his hips, in his hair, distracting him as his legs are nudged apart and his fly is undone. His head is craning back, his neck is being attacked and his tongue is hanging out of his mouth as he pants openly, groaning.

_As soon as their concert ended, a slender hand took hold of his own and he was towed unceremoniously backstage, opposite of Noodle and Russell._

_No after-party for him, then. Not that it mattered much._

_They rounded corner after corner, narrowly dodging the sound crew and lighting people in 2D's desperate search for a desolate hallway. Doors slammed shut, red exit sign shining brightly against the two men and Murdoc was shoved forcefully against the wall._

_Not that he minded_.

A hand wraps firmly around his stiffening cock, jerking him expertly and he bites back a needy moan. "_Shit!_"

2D laughs quietly at Murdoc's cursing, and he captures the bassist's lips with a hum. Murdoc moans into the kiss hungrily, wrapping his arms around 2D's neck with fervor.

"Christ, kid, y'gotta stop takin' me by surprise." he breathes, grinning when the singer's free hand moves to grab his ass. "Don't wanna suffer a heart-attack, yeah?"

"S'funny, though." 2D replies, snorting as he goes to remove Murdoc's jeans. The bassist kicks off his boots, struggling a bit in his excitement which earns him another laugh from the singer. "Y'mind turnin' around for a second?"

Murdoc doesn't answer, he merely does what's asked of him because he doesn't trust himself enough to speak. He bends over slightly and he nearly jumps when something cold and wet pokes at his entrance.

"Oops, forgot to warm it a bit." 2D laughs, and Murdoc can't tell if his apologetic tone is sincere or not. "Sorry."

"J-just shut _up_ and get goin'!" he snaps, his patience wearing thin. The singer makes a sound of compliance and suddenly there's a lubricated finger pressing into his ass. Murdoc lets out a shaky breath and he closes his eyes, his whole body warming up.

One finger soon turns into two, prepping him, stretching him and the gentle motions are soothing. His senses are on high alert and when 2D's finger brushes his prostate he feels his cock twitch.

But it doesn't stop there.

The singer continues with his administrations, thrusting his digits into the bassist roughly, thoroughly finger fucking him and he quickens his pace when Murdoc lets out a growling moan. Murdoc reaches a shaking hand down to his front in an attempt to jack himself off, and he only gets one stroke in before his hand is slapped away and replaced with 2D's.

"_Fuck!_" he groans, biting his lip as the sensations become too much.

Not a second later he's coming into 2D's hand, moaning and panting without restraint and he doesn't have time to recover before his back is being pressed against the wall once more. The singer grins down at him, unfastens his jeans and unrolls a condom onto his engorged penis.

"Y'ready?" he asks teasingly, gripping at Murdoc's thighs with a reassuring squeeze. Murdoc nods mutely, wraps his arms around 2D's neck in a vice grip and in one fluid motion he's lifted off his feet and lowered onto 2D's cock. He groans, wrapping his legs around the others waist the best he can despite the awkward angle. He leans his head back and rests it against the wall, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure.

It takes a moment for him to adjust to 2D's size, and when the singer fails to start moving Murdoc lets out an agitated grunt.

"I ain't made of glass, Stu. Start movin'."

And so he does.

With each roll of 2D's hips, Murdoc becomes that much more undone. He keeps calling out the other's name, his voice rising in pitch and desperation as time goes on. He guides 2D's face towards his own and he kisses him harshly, bitingly as the familiar coiling in his stomach increases in heat and intensity.

His cock, untouched, leaks and begs for contact. Murdoc moves his hips, grinding, hissing in need and want and he cries out when a particularly _hard_thrust meets his prostate.

"Jesus_ fuck!_" he moans, burying his face in 2D's neck. "Sweet Satan, Stu!"

2D laughs breathily, a smile in his voice.

"Y'okay?"

Murdoc doesn't answer. A few more thrusts delivered to his prostate has him in tears and he's coming onto his and 2D's shirts, profanities streaming from his mouth like a river. 2D follows soon after.

After a moment of silence 2D slides out and lowers Murdoc to the ground, dead on his feet. He's almost too tired to move, and he leans back against the wall as he tries to redress himself.

"Y'were thinkin' about that on stage, weren't you?" he asks, tired eyes almost daring the other to say something else. 2D laughs, shrugging.

"Yeah, pretty much."

oOo

**A/N:** sorry it's been so long! and sorry that this chapter is so short 8( i've been sorta at a loss as of late. inspiration is rly hard to come by.

this isn't the end, though! that'd be rly abrupt and unwanted on both sides (the readers and myself)

i hope u enjoyed this mess bc i'm bad at writing porn and i kept laughing. (i don't take myself seriously and i kept wanting to write COCK in all-caps and MEAT-SWORD in place of penis)

**ALSO A QUICK EXPLANATION AS TO WHY I DELETED THE ORIGINAL CHAPTER 23! **that whole chapter was just. rly unnecessary. it was redundant, and i never really liked it. i still have it saved, though, so if anyone desperately wants to read it again for whatever reason, you're welcome to PM me.

anyway.

i'll try to update soon! there probably aren't many chapters left 8'( bUT YAY HAPPY TIMES ALL AROUND! also there probably will be talk of Murdoc's mental health so maybe slight angst but nothing too bad

**_please remember to leave a review! 8') smooch smooch_**

xoxo

-Jess


	28. filler: Chapter 27 - Next

**Chapter 27 - Filler: Next**

**note**: this chapter takes place directly after last chapter 8) thought it might be a good idea yfm? ITS REALLY SHORT- ALMOST DRABBLE-LENGTH (but not really. almost 1k)

oOo

((exit))

Sweat is soon wiped away and soiled shirts are removed and exchanged for fresh ones.

_Although their little rendezvous was pleasant, it was very short lived. Obligations are obligations, though, and with fame comes the all-too-necessary ability to save face. Pick up, get dressed and get going._

_Never mind that they had almost been caught by one of the security guards patrolling the building on their way out of the hallway. Or the fact that they left a fair amount of evidence at the scene._

Currently stationed in their backstage trailer in preparation for their departure, Murdoc tries to practice sitting in a position that doesn't result in him doubling over in pain. 2D watches on, guilt stricken and fidgety with a frown in place.

Just when Murdoc feels as if he could comfortably sit without discomfort, a jolt of pain shoots up his spine and he bites back a groan. 2D flounders, face contorted in discomfort despite not having been through anything remotely painful. Still, Murdoc can't help but feel bad for the kid.

"_O-oh, God_, Muds! M'sorry, m'sorry!" he says for the umpteenth time, earnestly, nervously twiddling his thumbs. He takes a cautious step forward, placing a hand on the back of Murdoc's neck in apology. "I got carried away again. Shoulda been more careful, yeah?"

Murdoc shakes his head and brushes the other's hand away.

"S'fine, D." he replies, grinning through his irritation. After a moments pause his smile becomes more genuine. "M'fine. It was good, believe you me."

2D grins sheepishly, sighing. "Okay, okay. Still, I feel... _bad_."

Murdoc rolls his eyes and struggles to his feet, huffing tiredly. "Don't. And anyway, we should probably get goin'. Don't want lardarse or Noodle-girl throwin' a fit, now, do we?"

2D snorts, shaking his head vigorously.

"No, no. Not really."

Murdoc laughs, heading towards the door.

"Let's get goin', then."

oOo

((Kong))

Getting out of the car proves to be a difficult task for Murdoc.

_The ride back to Kong wasn't too difficult. Back at the concert hall, Murdoc struggled into the passenger-seat with gritted teeth and a forced smile. It wasn't the act of sitting that hurt, so much as it was the act of bending._

_And stretching._

_The bumps in the road didn't help much, either._

In the carpark, the air is still. It's vacant, quiet, devoid of life- same as always. Murdoc, breathing deeply, grips the car's narrow doorframe with rigid hands and hefts himself to his feet. He grunts in pain when his momentum is thrown, keeping his stance wide.

2D watches on at a safe distance, just beyond the passenger-side door. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, biting his lip in a sign of nervousness.

"Y'doin' alright, Muds?" he asks, tentatively. "You sure y'don't want any help movin' around?"

The bassist casts him a half-hearted glare.

"For the hundredth time, 'D, I'm _fine_. Stop fussin' over me, I ain't a soddin' child." he grinds out, slowly making his way towards his sleeping quarters. His steps are uneven, limping slightly due to the strain in his legs and groin. And ass.

2D flinches at his sharp tone, lowering his gaze in resignation.

"Yeah, yeah." he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. He pauses, lips pursed in contemplation. "..Hey, Muds?"

"Mm?" Murdoc replies, ceasing his awkward march towards his Winnebago. He glances over his shoulder to see that 2D still hasn't moved. "What?"

2D sighs through his nose, turning fully to face the other man. He frowns briefly and it only lasts a moment before it melts away completely, replaced with a dazzling smile.

"D'ya wanna spend the night with me?" he asks, resolute, motioning towards his door with a delicate wave of his hand. "Y'don't have to, of course. Thought'd be nice, though. Considerin'."

Murdoc, despite himself, feels a smile pull on his lips and his heart clench painfully in his chest. He doesn't have to think twice before answering.

"I'd love that, mate."

oOo

((sleep))

Beneath twisted covers they lie, entangled in a mass of limbs and clothes and sheets.

Soft snores resound from both men, drifting and settling into the ceiling amongst the others.

Fingers grip shirts, grip legs, grip waists and in their moment of peace and slumber do they become one.

_The first night._

oOo

**A/N:** this ones even shorter than the last! i wrote this rly fast and last minute, though. sort of a cute little continuation of last chapter before i get going onto a different topic. something more pressing, and more... sad.

obviously i haven't written it yet but ideas are swimming through my brain so

here's to another small update!

i hope this tiny little chapter was okay 8'O its just a baby.

and also- _please please please _**_remember to leave reviews after each update_**. it really helps with inspiration and my self-esteem 8')

xoxo

-Jess

**8/9 EDIT:** i might do a couple of insertion chapters before the next update. i'm not entirely sure- if that happens, just check back here to see if there are any directions. CryptidCrafter unknowingly reminded me that i needed to build their relationship and i'm going to do just that.


	29. filler: Chapter 28 - Dreams

**Chapter 28: Filler - Dreams**

(minor edits made on August 23, 2015)

(edited again on August 25, 2015)

**note: **takes place directly after last chapter!

murdoc's nightmare. it gets real. pls read the ending author's note.

(also the dream might seem suggestive and r/pe-y but it's really really not. it's not anything close to sexual or noncon or anything like that. i just wanted to write in this quick note just in case bc i don't want anyone getting scared or uncomfy.)

oOo

His dreams always start off as the seed of a simple thought. They begin to form and take fruition when his eyes droop closed, creating a world where anything and everything goes.

He's unable to tell the immediate difference between dreams and reality. Which is why nightmares are always so terrifying to him- they shake him, stir him, turn him into a mess of hysterics until his heart-rate eventually settles down and evens out.

They are, in a very real sense, his truth. His life.

At least for the time being.

oOo

((the first night))

He lies beneath twisted sheets and covers, sweat soaking his skin as he fidgets restlessly in his sleep. His breathing is shallow, uneven and he chokes, coughing but he remains under the heavy veil of slumber.

_Hollow, breathless screams bubble and fade within Murdoc's chest as he struggles against the creature's hold. All attempts thus far have only proven to be feeble and futile, but that doesn't stop him from trying again and again. Frozen hands hold him down, pushing, tearing at his arms and legs and he tries in vain to open his mouth._

_He's choking._

_Nails scratch painfully down the sides of his stomach, down his ribs, not quite breaking skin but it's hard enough to leave angry marks in their wake. _

_He can't see the monster. He can't see anything. But he can hear the angry whispers._

_They're always the same._

_"You deserve this, you know." the monster breathes, voice sweet and familiar but it holds a bruising undertone. "You're bad... you're nothing... and you'll be forgotten the moment your worthless life comes to an end. You won't leave a mark, you know that, right?"_

_The creature chuckles and brushes their lips against Murdoc's sweaty hairline, sighing contentedly when the other begins to stiffen._

_He can't talk back. He listens as the scathing words escape the other's mouth, unwilling to accept them as truth but physically unable to deny them. A tight fist grabs his hair, pulling, and his head is forced up. Still, his eyes don't see what's in front of him and he's unable to protest._

_"He doesn't care, either." the monster croons, rubbing their calloused thumbs against Murdoc's stubbled cheeks. "It's only pretend. A falsehood. You aren't strong enough to keep him, and he was never yours to begin with."_

_He doesn't have to ask who they're talking about. He already knows._

_Light soon begins to interweave with dark and the creature comes into focus. Little by little Murdoc is able to decipher shapes, angles, contours._

_Colors._

_A harsh, familiar laugh meets his ears and his eyes widen when he takes in the monster's blue, spiky hair._

His eyes snap open, unseeing, unknowing and he lets out an agonized scream. The sudden motion of his body sparks a familiar pain in his lower half and he cries out, his sudden fit successfully awakening his sleeping partner.

"Wha'?!" 2D shouts, frantic, reaching for the other man through his bleary confusion. His eyes are wild and searching, darting around the room in fear of the unknown. "Wha', what? Murdoc? Muds, are y'okay? Wha' happened?"

He continues to talk at Murdoc, his speech jumbled and nearly indecipherable and the bassist doesn't register any of it. 2D places his hands squarely on Murdoc's shoulders, gripping them firmly, comfortingly, but the bassist only smacks them away in revulsion.

Hissing angrily through his teeth, Murdoc screws his eyes shut and he tries to find his way out of this mental torment. His limbs flail about desperately, frantically, scrambling to the other side of the singer's bed in an attempt to free himself. But in doing so, he ends up kicking 2D sharply in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

2D's eyes grow wide and he coughs, rasping, clutching his chest painfully as he tries to catch his breath.

"-_Murdoc!_" he snaps, croaking, crawling after the other man in a broken crippled chase. "Oh my God, _Murdoc_! Stop it! Stop!"

He reaches out again, grabbing Murdoc forcefully by the wrist and his entire frame shakes with adrenaline. Murdoc tries to pull away sharply, squirming in the other's grasp, too lost in his own fragile mind to understand what's happening to him.

"NO!" he screams defiantly, tugging, voice breaking noticeably and it gives 2D pause. "Let go! L-let go of me, stop it!"

2D immediately drops Murdoc's wrist, rigid, shocked into silence. His eyes are wide and fearful, staring and he sets his hands firmly in his lap.

He waits.

The bassist's heart is beating at an alarming rate in his chest and he can't seem to breathe properly. He's confused, he doesn't know where he is and he wants everything to stop. He wants everything to be normal.

He wants to wake up.

He wants to vocalize this but his throat begins to tighten and when he opens his mouth to speak he's cut off by a broken sob. His chest hurts and he moves his hands to rest over his heart, fingers gripping at his shirt tightly.

His eyes begin to sting, his lips begin to tremble and his head drops forward as he lets out a strangled, beaten whimper. One tear quickly turns into two, and he cries openly- shoulders slumping and drooping painfully as his body is wracked with sobs. He doesn't speak, he doesn't try to cover it up, he just allows himself to crumble and fall apart and he doesn't refuse this time when arms pull and wrap around him from behind.

His head falls onto 2D's shoulder heavily and he buries his face in his neck, wrapping his arms around the other's shoulders in a desperate search for comfort. Fingers rub his neck soothingly as a gentle voice begins to hum in his ear, lulling him into a more peaceful state of mind.

"It's okay..." 2D breaths softly, pressing gentle kisses to Murdoc's neck and cheekbone as he does. "Shh, shh.. Muds, s'alright. Please, _please_ don' cry, love, you're okay. You're fine."

Murdoc moans pitifully in reply and he tightens his hold around the singer's shoulders, letting out another string of weary broken sobs. He feels himself being pulled fully onto 2D's lap and he ignores the pain, the embarrassment, the shame prodding at the forefront of his brain.

Another kiss.

"You're okay."

oOo

((pill))

Mornings are never easy. They're dragging, they're painful and they're tedious.

This one is no exception.

Murdoc's eyes, tired drooping and bloodshot, remain closed throughout most of his morning routine. And he keeps them closed as he stumbles to the kitchen, as he slumps tiredly against the grimy kitchen table with spoon clutched tightly in his hand.

The kitchen is covered in a sheet of filth and dust, turning white cupboards gray and gray flooring brown. His elbow leans and smears in a puddle of muck on the table and he ignores it, suppressing his gag-reflex expertly through clenched teeth and pinched lips.

Tiny fingers tap at his hand in question but they go unnoticed.

Noodle, already seated at the table, watches on in confusion as the older man presses his face further into the crook of his elbow, groaning pathetically. Her eyes follow the movements of his free arm as it searches blindly for bottles and boxes, touching but never quite grasping the now empty containers. Her eyebrows pinch together, lips pursing, breathing harshly through her nose as the unfamiliar scene plays on.

She continues poking Murdoc's hand and the bassist groans again, irritated, snuffling grossly against his shirt sleeve.

"Er...Murdoc-san?" she asks slowly, unsurely, nudging his arm insistently with a stray fork she finds strewn on the table. "..Where is bowl? You have a spoon, but no bowl is here. It is wrong, hai? Go find it."

Murdoc grumbles in annoyance and opens a sore eye to glare at her, too exhausted to formulate a real and honest response. Noodle starts, surprised by the sight of his reddened teary eye and her posture becomes stiff and rigid.

"Eye!" she exclaims fearfully, scrambling and raising her little hands to her mouth in shock. "Murdoc-san eye is broken! It is infect!"

Murdoc offers the young girl an unimpressed look, closing his eye once more.

"No it's not. You an' I both know that ain't true so don't say it." he sighs impatiently, sitting up with unsteady arms. "I had a long night after the concert an I don't wanna talk about it- now how about you go on an' bother Russ, eh? Y'damn rugrat."

No response is given. Noodle looks at him challengingly, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits and even though Murdoc's eyes are closed he can feel her stare through his eyelids.

He growls and tightens his grip on his spoon. "Go on, shoo. Get goin', bye-bye!"

Before Noodle can offer a retort 2D finally decides to make his grand appearance, tripping and falling over himself as he enters the stuffy room. He looks just about as haggard and washed out as Murdoc feels, expression dark and sullen.

"What's with all the screamin', Noods? Y'find somethin' crawlin' around in the cereal box again?" he asks curiously, yawning, ruffling her hair in an affectionate manner. She shrugs him off good-naturedly and points at Murdoc, hands trembling.

"Toochie!" she squawks, distressed, eyes wide with fear and unease. "Murdoc-san eye is infect! You help, please!"

2D frowns, expression confused and doubtful.

"..Wha'?"

"Look!" she exclaims, reaching over the table meaningfully to prod at the older man's face. Murdoc grunts in surprise and his eyes snap open, glaring at her openly. 2D doesn't look very convinced, though, and he sighs in understanding.

"Naw, love, he's jus' tired. Happens to grown-ups when they don' get enough sleep."

Silence.

"...Murdoc-san does not sleep?" Noodle asks inquisitively, voice soft and she sends him a sympathetic look. 2D laughs and shakes his head in amusement, raking his fingers through his unkempt hair.

"Okay, alright, alright- enough pesterin' 'im, c'mon." he chides, tone stern but expression wavering. He begins ushering the guitarist out of her seat, ignoring her indignant protests as he guides her towards the door. "Y'should start gettin' dressed, Noods. Russ was sayin' somethin' about takin' you out later today, yeah? Can't do that in your night clothes."

Noodle glances up at him skeptically, frowning, but she nods in agreement. She leaves without a word, without any glances spared and Murdoc watches on, awe-struck.

He frowns and his hands fidget, toes curling uncomfortably in his shoes. He feels his temper begin to flare and his mouth pulls into a deep-set frown.

"Okay, how is it tha' she listens to _everyone_ except for me?" he snaps, tapping his fingers against the tabletop. His sudden mood-swing startles the other man but he pays him no mind. "M'just as much of an adult as you an' Russ are. Me even _more_ so, if y'think about it. Honestly."

2D shrugs, indifferent, making his way back over to the table.

"Beats me."

Murdoc doesn't like his answer but he doesn't press it, opting to stare at the other man in silence. 2D does the same, hands on his hips, watching and waiting patiently as if he were expecting some sort of explanation.

"..What?" Murdoc questions defensively, looking down at himself in confusion. "Why're you lookin' at me like that? M'wearin' trousers!"

2D almost looks like he wants to laugh at the statement, lips quivering slightly and he snorts lightly. He pauses, faint smile melting away.

"..Y'wanna talk about what happened last night?" he asks suddenly, settling himself into Noodle's now-vacant seat with a wary smile.

Murdoc freezes, hands clenching uncomfortably at the other's prodding question, brows knitting together. 2D seems to notice this and he flounders.

"Y-y'don' have to, of course! I jus' wanna know what made y'freak out so badly, is all."

Murdoc rolls his neck and glances off to the side, keeping quiet and his temper in check. When he doesn't answer immediately he hears the singer sigh in disappointment, shifting his weight anxiously in his seat. Biting his lip, Murdoc forces himself to look back over, to look 2D in the eye and to keep the contact going.

"I'll tell ya later."

oOo

**A/N: **and then later never comes. THE END! 8') jk

but no later doesn't come anytime soon for them. soon for us, maybe.

i wrote this entire chapter in one sitting because i knew it wouldn't get done if i didn't. sorry it's bad lmao

BUT YEAH THIS WAS THE "SAD" I WAS TALKING ABOUT! now you all know what the whispers say to Murdoc when he's hallucinating 8)

i've been spending the last few weeks (months) editing this monster of a story and now! i can safely say that it's mostly decent quality. if any of you guys have the chance, I urge to to do another read-through of this entire story just to check it out- i've added plenty of new content to early chapters and i've taken some stuff out, too. (some of you may be disappointed but i am! glad i did what i did.)

sorry if this chapter is choppy! i'm struggling right now 8) hhaa lmao!

more mental-health/relationship build chapters to come. i think this counts as a filler, yes?

**_remember to leave a review! 8') YOLO_**

xoxo

-Jess


	30. Chapter 29 - Talk

**Chapter 29 **\- Talk

11/17 - hello naughty children B) its update time! insertion starts after "I saw somethin' in the mirror" 8)

sorry if the quality is bad i suck and it's midnight B)

oOo

10/27 - mini update for all- super super super short.

please read the author's notes at the end, okay?

((more sad stuff. leads to greater things.))

oOo

Murdoc is a man of many faults- the most prominent being that he refuses to talk about himself unless it's to stroke his over-inflated ego. Conversations are best left to those who are willing to face facts, and he isn't the type to admit to anything.

Today has been long and strenuous. The day before even more so. He finds himself, more often than not, escaping to the bathrooms instead of his own living space because, chances are, the others won't go looking for him in a place that reeks of piss.

The overhead lights are filled with flies- some twitch and writhe pitifully while others lie lifeless as their bodies are roasted by the dying florescent bulbs. Murdoc edges towards the center stall and locks the door behind him, dropping himself onto the toilet seat with an air of despondency. He sighs miserably and buries his face in his hands, letting out a pathetic, muted groan. Something like anger (but much less vociferous) rises in his chest and he lifts his face from his hands. He glares ahead at the grimy door just inches away from his face, deciding that if anything deserves to fall victim to his death stare, the door deserves it most.

He still doesn't feel right about the aftermath of his emotional breakdown a few days ago. Even after 2D let the subject drop, and even after his own promise to explain, Murdoc still finds himself at a loss.

How does one explain a lifetime of night terrors and borderline psychosis to someone without fear of judgement?

He doesn't know.

He lets that thought stew for a moment.

Having had enough of wringing his hands in empty silence, Murdoc hefts himself to his feet. Pressing a hand against the door, he pushes it open and moves towards the lone sink on the wall opposite of him. The bright, flickering lights of the exit sign just beyond are tantalizing enough, but a voice in the back of his head urges him to stop walking and to look at the mirror instead.

Something in his reflection flickers. Black, moving between the crevices both on the mirror's surface and just behind his shaking frame. Dark, hollow sockets and sallow peeling skin.

He can't bring himself to open his mouth and call for help. Eyes that don't belong to him stare back through the cracked mirror, never moving or blinking even when Murdoc's do.

He feels something in his chest snap, he feels something vital in his brain give way and everything around him blurs into a mess of visual castrophany.

He hears something shatter. Something physically and audibly breaks beneath his fists and his knuckles are engulfed in a pain so intense he almost cries out. Something warm and wet drips down past his now-bruising knuckles, splatting onto the stained linoleum flooring already littered with shards of broken glass. He drops to his knees, chest heaving painfully as he struggles for breath. He juts a hand out, catching himself on the sink before falling onto the glassy floor.

"..M..doc..?"

He can hear 2D's voice from just beyond the door. He squeezes his eyes shut in preparation for the inevitable

The footsteps draw closer.

(Is he going to come in? Or is he going to ignore the eerie, deathly silence and go on his merry way?)

The footsteps stop.

(Is he going to come in?)

The door opens.

"Hello? ...Muds?" 2D calls out curiously, stepping into the bathroom when he doesn't receive an answer. "You in here, mate?"

Murdoc's eyes open a fraction when he hears the others voice and after a moment of silence their gazes finally meet. 2D's animated demeanor halts and his bright, happy expression loses its luster .

It seems to take him a moment to assess and process the situation. The room grows silent for a few seconds before 2D's eyes widen, color draining from his face. He let's out a pained gasp and stumbles to Murdoc's side, crumpling to the floor.

"Murdoc!" he all but screams, voice shaking as he grips Murdoc's blood-stained shirt in poorly stifled terror. 2D's eyes stare down into his own desperately, searching for an answer that Murdoc can't readily provide.

Cursing, 2D grabs Murdoc's face and holds it between shaking hands, helping him into a sitting position as his thumbs press and rub circles into his hollowed tear-stained cheeks.

When did he start crying, exactly?

"Wha' happened t'you?" he asks, pretty face contorting into a broken grimace. Murdoc's hands- lax, battered and bloody at his sides- twitch when the other leans in close.

"What were y'doin, Muds?" 2D whispers hoarsely, mangled teeth bared into a disgusted snarl. Murdoc feels his hands being pried up, pulled against a bony chest and he winces painfully when his bruising knuckles strain against the contact. 2D's breath hitches in his throat.

"What the fuck did you do?"

The bassist closes his eyes tiredly, still coming down from his panic attack.

"I saw somethin' in the mirror."

2D looks taken aback by the other's confession. He blinks slowly, chewing on his bottom lip and he stares at Murdoc in silence. He remains still for a few seconds before quickly scrubbing the tears from his face. He sniffs wetly, letting out a gentle, placating sigh.

"Let's get y'cleaned up, Muds." he says softly, gripping Murdoc's elbow gently as he helps him to his feet. Murdoc nods slowly, eyes downcast as shame settles deep in his gut. He's more than a little surprised by 2D's change in subject, although he isn't complaining. Not in the least.

He sways on his feet and his knees buckle, and he nearly collapses after his first clumsy step forward. An arm winds itself securely around his waist, aiding him in his struggle.

"Thanks." Murdoc says breathlessly, not having it in him to downplay his gratitude. 2D hums softly in reply as they slowly make their way to the sink.

2D turns on the faucet and gingerly prods Murdoc's hands, bringing them under the rush of water. Murdoc hisses in pain, nose scrunching in disgust as he watches the blood swirl languidly down the drain. Most of it dried against his skin already and he resists the urge to scrape it off with his nails. 2D grabs a musty washcloth off the floor and hands it to Murdoc with a sad smile, standing off to the side with a look of despondency.

Murdoc's frown pulls deeper on his face and he sighs, closing his eyes. He turns the faucet off and tosses the washcloth into the sink in disinterest, drying his palms off on his jeans.

"Let's get out of here, alright?" he asks uncertainly, desperately edging towards the exit. 2D starts and his eyes widen a bit.

"Er, hold on." he says quickly, moving through the glassy debris in search of something. Murdoc watches on curiously, ignoring the dull throb in his hands. 2D makes a triumphant noise and turns around, first aid kit in his grasp.

"Gotta bandage your hands, yeah?" he says with a smile, gesturing for Murdoc to walk away from the sink. "C'mere, I'll take care of you."

Murdoc just barely manages to hold back a snort at 2D's overly-tender expression.

"Thanks, mum." he teases lightly despite the incessant panging in his chest. 2D smiles at him and opens the first aid kit, holding the bandages out in offering.

He's surprisingly careful in his administrations. When he finishes with his wrapping, he brings Murdoc's hands to his mouth and peppers his knuckles with soft kisses. Murdoc feels heat rise to his cheeks and he avoids eye contact, trying to fight off the grin threatening to split across his face.

2D reaches over and gently brushes Murdoc's sweaty fringe from his eyes.

"Y'wanna go watch the tellie in the lobby?" he offers gently, rubbing his thumb against Murdoc's cheekbone in soothing circles. Murdoc bats 2D's hand away lightly and nods, casting him a grin.

"Whatever tickles your fancy, blue bird."

oOo

An hour into their video game session and Murdoc can still sense 2D's unease. Not that he can blame him, or anything- it isn't like 2D didn't just walk in on him bleeding and crying on the bathroom floor. Even Murdoc had to admit that that was a pretty good reason to be on edge.

But 2D remains silent, completely still, focusing solely on the game in front of them. And providing idle chatter.

It's almost like he's waiting for Murdoc to broach the topic. Murdoc shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he realizes that yes, that's exactly what 2D is doing.

Suddenly, the controller in his hands feels unbearably heavy. His knuckles still hurt like hell and he bites his lip, sighing heavily through his nose. He puts the game on pause and groans, tossing his controller to the floor dejectedly.

2D looks over at him in surprise and raises an eyebrow.

"Muds, y'ain't losin' that badly." he quips, setting his controller off to the side with a smile. When Murdoc fails to smile back, 2D's shoulders slump. He looks tentative.

"...Y'doin' alright?"

"D'ya really have to ask that, 'D?" Murdoc sighs tiredly, rubbing his hands together in a show of nervousness. 2D purses his lips and shakes his head.

"Guess not." he says, leaning his head against the back of the couch. "But I thought it'd be best to ask, anyway. Just in case."

"Thinkin' isn't really your strong suit." Murdoc mutters darkly, digging his fingers into his thighs just a tad too rough. 2D looks like he wants to argue that but he remains silent, picking at his fingernails and cuticles. He clicks his tongue and takes in a sharp breath, turning fully to face the other.

He reaches out and sets a bony hand on Murdoc's shoulder.

"Is there anythin' that you wanna talk about?" 2D asks seriously. He places his other hand on Murdoc's cheek, gently rubbing his fingertips against his hairline in slow, steady circles.

Something deep, deep inside of Murdoc wants to snap. A little voice, worming its way to the forefront of his brain, is telling him to. It wants him to slap 2D's hands away- to shout at him and curse him out even though he has no real desire to.

He grinds his teeth in irritation and glares up at 2D, expression raw and broken. When he goes to speak his lungs constrict and he gasps, chest uncomfortably tight. It takes him a moment to realize that he's starting to tear up.

2D, despite his shocked expression, doesn't do anything more. He waits patiently for Murdoc to collect himself, still rubbing his fingers against the other's hairline.

Murdoc reaches up with his shaky, battered hands and wipes the tears away, too far gone to feel even a little embarrassed. He pushes 2D away and covers his face with his hands, groaning pitifully.

"Murdoc." 2D croons, leaning heavily against the back of the couch once more. In a hushed voice, he asks, "Do you wanna talk?"

Murdoc shakes his head desperately, refusing to look up at the other.

No.

He feels the subtle motion of 2D nodding against the back of the couch.

He hears the sad smile in his voice as he whispers, "Okay."

oOo

11/17 A/N: okay so I'm calling this chapter done. i can't agonize over this anymore.

lesson learned: sometimes it's okay to wait to talk about emotional stuff. it's never a good idea to discuss personal/mental health when you're not ready to. Murdoc's not ready, and 2D respects that.

so, in the end, the title of this chapter is ironic. but ground was still covered, and that's all we can really ask for.

i'm still struggling with school and depression but I was briefly inspired after re-reading His Music (by gorillazobsessor) B) that's such a good story pls read it...

more is to come, eventually! i'll try to get on it as soon as i can- probably before christmas. maybe even sooner. (or not.)

**i love you guys! please remember to leave a review 8')**

xoxo

-Jess

oOo

10/27 A/N: okay so first of all- hello everyone! sorry for the huge delay. i'm still alive 8)

secondly- i'm very much aware of the fact that this chapter is fucking short. like. content -wise. it's only 744 words. i'm still stuck right now but this is what i was able to push out. i'm calling this segment "Talk - Part 1" because I will add more to this chapter when I get the chance.

if any of you read Frankenstein and Birdbrain you'll know what i mean (winks in CryptidCrafter's direction)

so! idk when i'll update this chapter but it'll be. in the future. that's for sure. probably before Thanksgiving (mid-november to my non-american readers)

i'm really sorry about my prolonged absence, guys. mental illnesses suck and i still haven't been able to meet up with a counselor. college also sucks.

let's all just go on the assumption that everything sucks.

but i do plan on finishing this story! and finishing the other one that i posted last month. Reality is STILL on hiatus, but this was just a little break in between.

sorry if it's disappointing! i love you all to bits and i hope that this alleviated even the tiniest inkling of stress.

stay beautiful! feel free to PM me or message me on tumblr (spongeson) at any time 8)

xoxo

-Jess


	31. Chapter 30 - Ignite

**Chapter 30 - Ignite**

**A/N:** this chapter probably isn't as pretty or as polished as it could be but I mean. hey. here it is son.

1/1/16: had to edit a few things! nothing big, just a few grammar issues that needed fixing 8')

oOo

oOo

His eyes can't help but follow their erratic, playful movements. With the alertness of a predatory animal, he watches the two of them as they push and prod at each other on the floor. Even as the smaller of the two falls to the ground, flat on her back, he remains the silent spectator.

2D ignores her and leans forward, shoulders rising high as he stares across at the television screen.

Noodle, determined as always, climbs onto 2D's lap and wrestles the controller out of his hand. She laughs at his outraged cry when his character flies off-screen, and squeals in terror when his arms wrap around her waist in retaliation.

Murdoc then looks away, snorting, waiting for 2D's pained cry to surface.

There's a muffled thump and he looks towards the television again, watching as his singer falls to his side in a messy heap. Noodle looks vaguely guilty as she scrambles away, rubbing her elbow, brow creasing in worry when he fails to collect himself.

The room falls silent for nearly a minute before her complexion begins to turn sickly.

"Toochie?" she croons tentatively, kneeling down beside her fallen brother. 2D doesn't move, doesn't make a sound as he rests on the floor. Murdoc shifts in his seat uncomfortably, a nervous frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. Noodle pokes his hair with her finger, uttering a soft grunt as she bites down on her lower lip in trepidation. "Hah, wake now!"

"_Please_ don't tell me tha' you jus' killed off our singer, Noodle!" Murdoc chides, moving as if getting ready to stand. Noodle's hopeful expression cracks, quickly turning crestfallen. She leans forward, placing both of her tiny hands on 2D's shoulder and gives him a good shake. Murdoc grabs something light off of the coffee table and tosses it at 2D's limp form, silently praying to every known deity in existence that he's just pulling a fast one on them. "C'mon, 'D, grow a pair already and stop bein' so dramatic. She barely even bumped ya, jeez."

Still, he doesn't move.

"H-hey! Is joke, yes?" Noodle says hurriedly, leaning forward a bit to glance at 2D's face. Murdoc hefts himself up off of the couch and walks up behind her, leaning over to look at 2D. He can't quite make out the other's facial expression and his stomach falls when he sees that 2D still hasn't begun to stir.

"Stu, mate, get off of the damn floor and stop freakin' Noodle out. I don't need her fallin' into hysterics just because you can't take a hit."

Despite his words, his heart beats irregularly in his chest.

"Eh! Toochie, come, it is no time to sleep!" she says urgently, climbing over him and quickly pushes him onto his back. Murdoc winces at her brute force, falling back a bit and unsure of whether or not he should be doing something. Should he call Russell? 999? Should he be checking for a pulse?

It isn't like Noodle actually did anything, she just elbowed him in the chestbone for Christ sake! He steps closer and kneels down beside 2D, moving to press his hand against other's neck.

"…2D?" he asks softly, moving his hand against the other's throat momentarily before setting it back at his side. He rakes his fingers through his hair, hands shaking, anxiety rushing through him like a torrent. "God, fuck. This is just _great_, Noodle! Y'went and killed him and now! Now he's-!"

"-Toochie! Gomennasi! I am sorry, do not die! I'm- AH!"

The sudden noise makes Murdoc start and he jumps nearly a foot in the air. He falls backwards and lands on his ass, staring wide-eyed at the newly revived 2D.

Noodle's pleading tone is cut off by a shrill giggle as 2D starts laughing, wrapping himself fully around the young girl as she loses herself in her hysterics.

"Gotcha!" he crows, moving his deft fingers under her chin to tickle her neck. "Had ya goin' there, didn't I?"

"Toochie! Noo! Is not funny!" she laughs, squirming in his grasp. "Is bad! You are bad, Toochie!" she moves to bite him but he lets her go, scrambling to his feet.

"I'm not bad! Look at you, you're still laughin'!" he smiles, bending down to eye-level. He lifts his hand and nudges her chin, grinning warmly at her. "Smile, yeah?"

Noodle pouts and looks away, folding her arms over her chest in agitation. Her eyes land on Murdoc and her expression falls, shoulders slumping downward.

"Murdoc-san…?" she asks curiously, tilting her head to the side. 2D follows her gaze and looks over at Murdoc, expression matching the young guitarist's almost perfectly.

"...Muds?"

The person in question, of course, remains completely silent. He feels his heart beat hard in his chest and his shoulders begin to grow tense. His eyes meet 2D's and in an instant he's overcome with a rage so intense that he's surprised that he hasn't lunged at him yet.

"What the hell is your _problem_?" he snarls, getting to his feet in an angry huff. 2D looks taken aback and he side steps, moving to stand protectively in front of Noodle.

"I don't have a problem!" 2D insists, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Murdoc hisses and reaches forward, gripping 2D's arm.

It isn't painful, not in the least.

"Murdoc-san!" Noodle cries in outrage, moving to step around 2D's towering frame. "No hurt Toochie-!" 2D shushes her, looking over his shoulder in warning. He feigns a smile and gestures for her to leave.

"S'okay, Noodle. Now run off an' be a good girl, okay? Go play in your room."

Noodle sends him an incredulous look, eyes narrowing as if to say _'are you seriously going to treat me like a child Right Now?_' but her vocabulary isn't strong enough to vocalize her would-be protests. She frowns and backs away, glaring daggers at Murdoc all the while.

"No fight." she whispers dangerously. "I will get Russell-sama… if it is silence."

When she leaves, the two face each other angrily.

"What are you goin' on about, Murdoc?" 2D asks, snatching his arm away from the other man's grasp.

"What am _I_ goin' on about?" Murdoc laughs bitterly, removing himself from the other completely with a quick shove to 2D's middle. "What were YOU goin' on about! Sweet Satan, Stu, y'can't just fuckin' drop dead an' go all non-responsive for shits and giggles! Y'wanna send me into cardiac arrest or somethin', dullard? Fuck!"

"But me an' Noodle do that stuff all the time-!"

"I don't care if you an'Noodle sign up for a goddamn _drama _class!" Murdoc snaps, punching 2D's in the shoulder roughly to accentuate his point. "You. CAN'T! Do that to me! Y'wanna practice playin' a corpse, fine! That's your thing. I don't care. But you CANNOT pretend to be dead in front of me. I don't wanna go through that, an' I don't want the others to see me getting all emotional over _your_ sorry arse."

2D looks completely lost. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Nothing of use. Only a soft "oh" and a pause.

Suddenly, though, realization seems to dawn on him.

"Oh, God." he breathes, shaking his head in dismay. He moves a step backwards and runs his fingers through his hair, still shaking his head. "Muds. Oh, God, Muds. M'sorry that I scared you. I…I wasn't thinkin'-"

"Of course you weren't thinkin'!" Murdoc hisses bitingly, stomping his foot down in frustration.

_Well. That's something he hasn't done in a while. _

"'D, you're lucky that I like you because I swear. I _swear_. If you were anyone else I would've decked you by now. I honestly want to throw you out a window. I'm not even joking."

2D smiles weakly but it doesn't do much to dissuade Murdoc's foul mood. 2D steps forward and wraps his arms around the other's waist, pulling him close.

"M'sorry."

"Fuck off."

"I won't do it again, okay? I promise. I promise, I won't."

Murdoc presses his face into 2D's chest and inhales, but he doesn't return the hug.

"Do you want me to do anythin' for you?" 2D asks softly, unwinding himself from the shorter man. "Like. I dunno. Somethin'? Is there somethin' I can do to help make you less mad?"

Murdoc shrugs noncommittally, glancing off to the side with a frown.

"Beats me, dents. Try and think of something. Give your brain a much-needed work out."

oOo

Murdoc couldn't have anticipated this. Not even if his very life depended on it.

Well, actually, he _could _have anticipated this but he didn't really. He didn't actually think about it. He keeps forgetting about how forward 2D can be.

Should it be embarrassing? Probably.

Most definitely.

Oh, for sure it Should Be Embarrassing but he's too wrapped up in being consumed by the other to even think about being embarrassed.

2D looms over him with a surprising amount intensity, both in his eyes and in his frame. Their kisses tell stories. Each stroke that 2D provides elicit sounds from Murdoc that are borderline pornographic- but, of course, to describe them as such would rob them of their sentimentality.

2D presses warm, wet kisses to the side of Murdoc's neck as he pushes into him, gingerly petting his hair. Murdoc sighs and reaches up, threading his fingers through 2D's hair with a serene smile.

"Go on, then." He whispers, and he bites his lip when the other's hips begin to twitch. "C-come on, mate. Y'gotta go an' do this every time?"

2D looks down at him quizzically and quirks a brow. His eyes grow soft and, lips forming into a gentle smile, he whispers back:

"Of course."

And his hips begin to move. Slow, at first, but building. Building into something much faster and rougher. Murdoc has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep himself from tearing up at the other's gaze.

Go ahead, call him sentimental. He doesn't care.

"F-f-fuck!" he breathes, curling his fingers into the other's sweat soaked bedsheets. "Mnngh…_God_!"

He can hear 2D's high pitched laughter over the sounds of his own heavy breathing but he doesn't bother getting upset with him over it. Not while he feels like he's coming undone.

"Hhhah, hah, l-laugh it up." he sneers, opening his eyes a fraction. "Jus' know th-that _I _know where you sl-sle—AH!"

Right in the sweet spot.

Cutting off his threat, too.

How rude.

Murdoc lets out a long, drawn out moan as heat begins to bloom in his groin. 2D doesn't let up in his administrations, though, and he begins pumping Murdoc with vigor as his own end seems to approach.

"I know where you sleep, too, Muds." 2D says smartly, a teasing grin splitting across his face. Murdoc reaches up and pulls 2D's hair roughly, smirking up at him through his fringe.

"Nice comeback, d-dents." He says says flippantly, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. 2D reciprocates without hesitation and tightens his hold on Murdoc's dick, squeezing firmly and sliding his thumb over the tip.

"_F-FUCK_!" Murdoc yelps in surprise, biting back another moan as 2D continues with his rough treatment. "Sh-shit, hold on!"

"Onto what?" 2D asks, leaning down to trace Murdoc's jawline with his tongue. "_This_?"

He squeezes Murdoc's dick once more and is rewarded with a needy whine, much to Murdoc's mortification. 2D hums pleasantly and leans back, smiling wholly at the other man.

"Nnghh, St-Stu, stop fucking around!" Murdoc snaps, although the threat in his voice becomes much less convincing when he's cut off with another moan. "Either continue f-fucking me or-!"

He's silenced by 2D's lips on his, and he can't really find it in himself to complain. This continues for a few more seconds before Murdoc feels the heat in his groin begin to throb.

"D, I-I'm-"

"-Y-yeah?"

"Hhhah-! F..Sata-! Nnn!" Murdoc can't seem to get a complete word out, let alone a complete sentence. He's quickly growing frustrated with himself and his inability to speak. He takes in a sharp breath and groans. "S-Stu, I-! _Fuck_! I-I l-lo-! Hhhngh!"

Before he can finish his sentence he's coming onto their chests and stomachs, completely silent save for a single, tired sigh. 2D follows soon after and doesn't waste time in pulling out and disposing of his used condom. He falls to sit beside Murdoc on the bed and strokes his tired, stubbled face, smiling sweetly at him and looking as if he wanted to say something.

Humming softly, he leans over the side of the bed and picks up his discarded shirt, using it as a makeshift towel to wipe himself off. He then turns to Murdoc and does the same, wiping him down with the now-dirtied fabric. He tosses it to the side in disinterest and reaches forward, tapping Murdoc's jaw.

"..Muds?" 2D asks, running his fingers along the other's hairline with a thoughtful expression. Murdoc opens his eyes and looks up, surprised at the other's unsure frown.

"Hm?"

2D's eyes flicker down to meet his own and he opens his mouth to speak.

"..I.." he begins, trailing off, shifting his weight and adjusting his position to lay next to the other. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to Murdoc's lips. When he pulls away, his eyes grow hesitant and wary.

"…Y'what?" Murdoc asks slowly, stomach churning uncomfortably at 2D's tone. The singer looks over him and smiles reassuringly, placing his hand on Murdoc's cheek.

"There's somethin' I gotta say, Muds."

Despite his warm expression, Murdoc feels his blood run cold.

"Well spit it out, then." he snaps, fear consuming his better judgment. 2D cracks a grin and nods hurriedly. Slowly, he takes a deep breath and whispers;

"...I love you."

The room falls dead silent. Murdoc feels his heart race in his chest and his eyes grow wide, face contorting unpleasantly- not out of disgust, of course, but of something else.

Fear, maybe.

When he fails to speak 2D's smile begins to fade.

"…Uh."

Murdoc wants to say something, of course, but what? He opens his mouth and tries to speak but nothing comes out. He feels a familiar pricking sensation behind his eyes and he knows that he's going to start crying.

"...Stu, um.." he starts, rolling onto his back to keep the tremors at bay. His throat is already starting to close off, which isn't a good sign. 2D seems to notice this and he flounders.

"A-are you okay, Muds?" he asks desperately, patting Murdoc's face with trembling hands. "I'm sorry, I… I shouldn't've said anything. I-I made you upset again."

Murdoc takes in a shuddering breath and closes his eyes, shaking his head vigorously. He grabs 2D's wrist and holds it tight, biting his lip to keep his voice in check.

"N-no, no. It's." he pauses and takes a deep breath, opening his eyes. "I. I, uh. Y-you too, okay? You too."

2D doesn't look like he understands completely, but he nods anyway. Murdoc sighs with relief and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, rubbing until white lights begin to surface behind his eyelids. He sighs again and lets his arms fall to his sides, staring up at the ceiling.

"..Stu."

"Yeah?"

Murdoc pauses, unsure of himself. He closes his eyes.

"We need to talk."

oOo

**A/N:** to dispel any worry you folks may have; no, they aren't breaking up. That's not the kind of talk they're going to have. I'm pretty sure it's obvious what they're going to be talking about at this point in time. it got kind of messy towards the end, sorry.

anyway.

here's chapter 30.

thank you guys for sticking around so long! rn I'm estimating maybe two more chapters out of this monstrosity.

**_please remember to leave a review!_ **

xoxo

-Jess


	32. Chapter 31 - End

**Chapter 30 – End**

**A/N: **super cheesy title 8) I live for clichés.

please read the notes at the end of the chapter !

this ones a little different

**edit**: i forgot to mention 100 years ago that this chapter is special bc it takes place primarily in 2d's POV instead of Murdoc's

oOo

The silence is suffocating. He can almost _feel_ it pressing against the inside of his skull.

"..Stu."

2D flinches at the other's soft, defeated tone. He frowns, eyebrows knitting together in apprehension.

"Yeah?"

It isn't really a question. Murdoc closes his eyes.

"We need to talk."

Murdoc looks like he's going to be sick, that much is certain. The corners of his mouth twitch and pull slightly downward, giving him an unpleasant and sour appearance. He swallows thickly, fingers twitching slightly at his sides.

2D doesn't answer right away. He doesn't know what he was expecting, exactly, but it certainly wasn't _this._

"Are… uh… what about, Muds?"

His voice is soft and gentle, as if he were speaking to a small child. And that's probably a good thing, since Murdoc has zero experience talking about his feelings and he desperately needs the sensitivity and patience.

Murdoc begins to shake, and it startles 2D a bit. He gazes at Murdoc imploringly, grasping at his sheets and drapes them over both himself and Murdoc to stave off the other's nervous shuddering.

Murdoc doesn't seem to notice, and he keeps his eyes screwed shut.

Pursing his lips, 2D decides to try rephrasing his question.

"What do y'wanna talk about, Murdoc?"

Murdoc's eyes snap open in surprise, as if he had forgotten where he was.

2D smiles at him, but he knows that it probably doesn't look genuine. Murdoc doesn't smile back.

Murdoc moves to sit up, not bothering to keep the sheets fixed on his lap, and leans back against the singer's headboard. 2D mirrors the action, drawing his knees to his chest. He continues to stare at Murdoc with his large, _impossibly wide_ eyes, still waiting for an answer.

Murdoc lets out a deep breath.

"I don't know, mate." he sighs, offering a humorless laugh. "I… I've never, ever… even _tried._"

2D's expression remains open, although he still feels like he's missing something important. He frowns.

"What'd'ya mean? Y'never tried _what_?"

Murdoc opens his mouth, but he doesn't speak right away. Now he _really_ looks like he's going to be sick.

"I never tried talkin' about my illness, Stu." He grates out, wrapping his arms around his midsection. His lip curls into a sneer but his eyes don't hold any hostility.

A lump forms in 2D's throat.

"…You mean, your…" He trails off, making subtle hand-gestures towards his head and heart. Murdoc looks at him funnily, cocking a scruffy brow. "…Head-Stuff?"

Murdoc barks a laugh, surprising 2D with the volume of it.

"Yeah, I guess y'could say that." He sighs, scratching his head. Then he scoffs. "_Head-Stuff_. Where the fuck do you come up with that shit, 'D?"

2D shrugs. He doesn't know what to say, or where to start.

"Er, sorry. That was stupid." He offers lamely. When Murdoc doesn't reply, he continues. "…Anyway… you can try talkin' about it now, if you want."

Murdoc says nothing. He taps his fingers against his legs, staring ahead at nothing as the silence stretches on. After a few minutes, he breathes in sharply through his teeth and nods.

"Where to start?" he sighs, glancing up at the ceiling. 2D opens his mouth to speak, but decides against it, assuming that Murdoc's question probably wasn't meant to be answered.

"…My dad was—well. I guess you could say that he was a sick fellow, both figuratively and literally." Murdoc sighs, glancing at 2D through the corner of his eye. 2D remains silent, listening intently to the other. "He had schizophrenia and psychosis. And while neither of those are a death sentence or a reason to demonize anyone else..."

He laughs softly, picking at his fingernails with a vacant expression.

"He was the exception to the rule."

"..How do you mean?" 2D asks dumbly. Murdoc rolls his eyes and gives him a tired look.

"What I'm saying, Stu, is that mentally ill people aren't inherently evil."

He says this as if it were practiced. He says this as if it's been drilled into his head.

"But my dad wasn't most people, and he wasn't a good person. His illnesses weren't catalysts to the evil things he did. He was a bad, abusive man even before the symptoms started. Or so I was told, by those who knew him before I came along."

2D nods slowly, unease settling in the pit of his stomach.

Murdoc rubs his eyes tiredly and sighs.

"He didn't medicate himself, of course. In dad's days, that type of medicine either didn't exist yet or it was impossible to get a hold of. It was all shock therapy and torture chambers for the poor sods who were unfortunate enough to be dumped off and forgotten at the loony bin."

Murdoc pauses for breath. "..So, no, he didn't get help. He didn't want help, either. He drank, did drugs, and hurt people to appease the voices in his head."

"He hurt me, he hurt my brother, and I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that he probably hurt my mum before I was born. And I'm gonna emphasize the fact that it wasn't just the voices and his illnesses that drove him to do bad things. He felt no remorse, Stu, and he took pleasure in what he did. He got off on it, and had an entire room dedicated to his sick rituals. I'm talkin' 'trophy shelves' and walls covered in knives and masks."

2D doesn't know what to say. His stomach twists in knots and he suddenly feels overexposed, even though he's not the one who lived through being raised by Sebastian Niccals.

Murdoc's eyes look glassy and far away. He continues speaking.

"And the reason I'm tellin' you this, Stu, is because I was _blessed _with the same damn illnesses that my dad had."

He locks eyes with 2D as he says this, expression turning dark.

"Only difference is that I actually _tried_ to get better. I went to therapy even though all of those _doctors_ didn't know what the hell they were talkin about. I took the medicine they prescribed me for _years_ and all that did was sap the life out of me and make me miserable. So now I drink, and do drugs, and I hurt people and the voices in my head _still _taunt me."

His voice is starting to grow louder. He presses a hand to 2D's chest and growls.

"And I see _you_, all the damn time! Only it ISN'T you!" he snaps, clenching his teeth. "The dreams and visions are all so _vivid_ and _terrifying. _And when they aren't terrifying, they're painful and they _hurt _me. I hear you, a-and I see you even when you're miles away. Or only a few rooms down from mine. And I went so _long_ without hearing or seeing a-anything, that I was bloody _stupid_ enough to believe that I was finally getting better."

His eyes grow hard, his glare sharp and piercing. His hand drops from 2D's chest, settling in his lap.

"I'm _sick_, Stu. I've been sick since the day we met. Even before that."

2D's voice feels like it's caught in his throat. His breath hitches in his chest, and he clears his throat before speaking.

"..Muds… you know that you're still…" he trails off, trying to find the right words. "…You're still _you._"

Murdoc rolls his eyes and sneers meanly.

"Holy shit, Stu, you're right!" he exclaims, sarcasm lacing his tone. "Major fucking breakthrough!"

2D tries to contain his irritation and just barely manages to succeed.

"Shut up, you know what I mean!" he snaps. "I just meant that even though you're hurtin' inside, you're still the bloke that rammed me in the face with his stupid, _ugly_ car. And you're _still_ the bloke who, against all odds, managed to _barely _scrape by and form a band in spite of what _everyone_ said."

Murdoc's shoulders sag a bit, and his expression loses its fire. 2D's eyes soften and he smiles placatingly at him, nudging his bare side with his elbow.

"…And I love you in spite of your flaws. And even though you piss me off more than _anyone_ I've _ever_ met—_ever_\- I'm gonna stick around for a while."

As if to finalize his statement, 2D leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to Murdoc's lips. Murdoc looks up at him in awe, a slight flush covering his cheeks.

"Damn." Murdoc laughs shakily, averting eye contact. He sighs and covers his face with his hands, groaning in what can only be interpreted as embarrassment. 2D laughs openly and rubs his eyes.

"_Fuck_." Murdoc moans, voice muffled by his hands. "That was a lot easier than I thought it would be."

2D nods.

"Been holdin' that in for a while, huh?" he asks, draping an arm over Murdoc's shoulders. Murdoc groans again.

"My head hurts."

"I know it does."

"Screw off."

2D laughs again and presses a kiss to Murdoc's temple. He sits in silence for a few moments, before speaking.

"…Thank you, Muds."

Murdoc peers up from his hands and looks at him in surprise.

"For what?"

2D purses his lips, choosing his next words carefully.

"For… telling me about your dad, I guess. I never knew." He pauses. "I mean, I knew that he was an abusive son of a twat and that he hurt you, but I didn't.. know about the other things. And I had no idea that your head was such a mess."

Murdoc's eyes grow wide for a moment, and he looks like he's about to blow a fuse before he breaks into a wide grin.

"Watch yourself, sunbeam."

They both laugh for a few moments, and the room falls silent again. Murdoc shifts under 2D's arm and rests his head against his shoulder.

"…'D?"

"Hm?" 2D asks, closing his eyes tiredly.

"Where do you think this leaves us?"

2D frowns at Murdoc's question, but answers anyway.

"Wherever." He says simply. Murdoc hums in agreement.

"Hey, Dents?"

"Yeah?"

He waits, just a heartbeat, for Murdoc to speak his mind.

"I love you, too."

oOo

A/N: DUMB ENDING BY E

8')

okay so hello everyone! it's been a few months and I'm sure you're all glad to finally have some sort of conclusion to this _little_ domestic-type fic B) heh

I'm so unbelievably sorry that I've been gone for so long! I've been going through a lot of stuff lately and it's hard to find the time to sit down and actually write, even though I've been wanting to 8(

and in case anyone's interested, here's a little update on my life:

a week after the new semester started, I dropped all of my classes and pulled out of school for the semester because I was so stressed out and I didn't know what I was doing

so now i'm working almost full time at Dunkin' Donuts and it's pretty rad even tho I'm always tired and crying lol

also I just had my 20th birthday (in January) and I feel like death 8)

SO THERE'S THAT.

I just wanted to say that I've had _so much fun_ writing this story for all of you. it's been a wild ride, to say the least. I've made a lot of friends through Gorillaz, and this fanfic in particular (I'm lookin at YOU, Shaun ! my son)

**_and how crazy is it that my LAST update on this story is on it's BIRTHDAY?_ **I honestly can't believe that it's been a year since I started Reality. I went from updating it every day to updating once a month. that's a big change. lord have mercy on my soul.

Christ.

anyway- thank you all for being such amazing, loyal and supportive fans. to those who read this at it's rawest, and to those who just started reading (and never had to see my old, embarrassing format): I love all of you. you're wonderful. i just wanna squeeze all of you and never let you go because you made me believe that I could write. who would'a thought? NOT ME!

stay beautiful, my babies!

with love,

-Jess 8')

ps

**_SORRY IF THIS ISN'T SATISFYING LMAO_**


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